To Freedom
by Jander Panell
Summary: When Sheppard gets taken captive by the Wraith, he finds an unlikely ally in an unusual young Wraith scientist. Mild slash. Formerly "The Captive." FIRST 11 CHAPTERS REWRITTEN, NEW CHAPTERS FROM 12 ONWARDS
1. Interest

**To Freedom**

_Chapter One: Interest_

Warnings: Mild, largely implied slash (homosexual pairings), implied Wraith/human pairing, violence, language on par with that of the show

This is the story that was once known as **The Captive**. I'm going back and rewriting the chapters I have up...well, more like editing them to be more readable, but I'm also changing a few plot and charaacterization points. Hopefully it'll end up being much better than the one from two years ago.

This new title, I feel, suits the story much better. I never liked the old title and I always thought of it as a placeholder.

* * *

The first thing he became aware of was the headache. The cascade of agony throbbing inside his skull. When he tried to move his head, daggers shot through the soft gray matter of his brain and he was forced to fall still. Well, at least he could still feel his head, even if it was nothing but a tender ball of pain. When he tried to open his eyes, a brilliant deluge of light rushed into the gap left by his retreating eyelids, and he quickly clamped them shut.

He groaned and fell backwards and his head banged against the wall, but it didn't hurt because the wall wasn't hard. In fact, it felt slightly...squishy.

Squishy? Why were the walls squishy? And where was he? More importantly...

_Who _was he?

He felt a body but his mind was still floating somewhere in the morass of space, unaccessable. It was a terribly lonely feeling.

_Damn, amnesia on top of everything else, _he thought with a wry chuckle. Even that small movement of his jaw and vocal cords sent agony coursing through his head. He slumped against the mysteriously squishy wall, unable to open his eyes, unable to move, and his head felt only seconds away from bursting. On top of that, he didn't even know who he was.

_Carson could fix this headache, _and then he found himself wondering who this "Carson" was too. His head gave a particularly excruciating throb.

_Water...damn, some water would be nice. _This was true - his throat was dry as sandpaper. Somehow, he felt some ice cold water would also help to clear his head, and maybe rewire his brain so that he could remember who the hell he was.

He tried to speak - at least he still knew what speaking was. He started by moving his jaw and making sounds issue from his throat, but when nothing but unintelligible gibberish - which made his jaw hurt - exited his lips. Of course. He had to think of _what _to say first.

"A little _water, _guys?"

But who were these mysterious "guys?" Maybe he should try being more polite.

"Could I please have some water?"

That was too much to say, though.

"Water. Please."

That sound nice. Only three syllables.

He tried it. Ignoring the pain that shot through his head, he opened his mouth and choked out a syllable that sounded something like, "Wah." Good. Just "Ter" and "Please" next.

"T...t...ter...puh...leez." Was that even _him _talking? He sounded like he was both drunk and suffering from a speech impediment. His voice rumbled and crackled like a monster's, and it made sharp spikes poke at his brain through his ears. Oh, this wouldn't do.

"Waaaaaaahh..." he tried again, making a noise approximating that a whale would make as it was being harpooned. Why was asking for a drink so damnably hard?

"Taaaaaaa...eeehhhh...rrrrr..." he continued, without any idea what he was saying. "Puuuhhhhhhhh..."

Just as he had pieced together something that sounded faintly respectable (a bit like, "Wa-tuh-er puh-leez"), his concentration was destroyed by the steady stomping of boots. The sound was unbearable - each thud was like a sledgehammer driven deeper into his skull. He groaned and twisted as the steps grew louder and closer, echoing like thunderclaps.

He was vaguely aware of movement somewhere in front him. Shadowy figures stood in a row, but he could not see them well because trying to crack his eyes open caused a torrent of blinding light to hammer his head. He compromised by opening them the barest of slivers.

A thought occured to him - he could ask these people for water, whoever they were.

Before he could begin to launch into another painful attempt to say "Water, please", a harsh voice sliced like a dagger into his brain.

"Colonel Sheppard."

And then his mind found his body again. All the scattered, scrambled memories rearranged themselves into a solid whole when he heard his name, and he remember not only who he was, but how he'd gotten here, and above all what this place had to be.

"Oh, hell, no," Lt. Colonel John Sheppard muttered.

* * *

"Wow, it's really, uh, dark," said Dr. Meredith Rodney McKay, darting nervous glances around the thick branches and tree trunks that loomed out of the gloom like armed warriors. He was paler than his usual pasty shade and sweating quite profusely. "I didn't know it'd be so dark here."

"What, you afraid of the dark, Rodney?" said Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, aiming his gun light through a clump of trees. "Relax, nothing's going to eat you."

"Yeah, you _think?" _shot back Rodney. "Look, did you hear that shriek when we first gated in? It could've been, I don't know, a man-eating bat or something or even worse - "

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "Man-eating bat?"

"What's a bat?" said Ronon Dex as he passed Sheppard and Rodney.

"It's like - some sort of - flying thing," said Sheppard, raising his arms in a passable imitation of flight.

"Some _flying thing," _snorted Rodney derisively. "Nice powers of description there, Shakespeare!"

"Hey, that _is _what a bat is, isn't it?" said Sheppard defensively. "They fly!"

"Yeah, but so do moths and bees and birds," said Rodney. "And airplanes, and - "

"Look, I can't believe we're even talking about this," said Sheppard, deciding to terminate this conversation before it turned into a full-fledged argument. "Bats, of all things?"

"Yeah, well, man-eating bats are nothing to laugh at!" squeaked Rodney.

"Flying things that eat people," said Ronon casually. "We had things like that on Sateda. They were huge birds."

Rodney made a noise that sounded very much like "Eek!" Sheppard bit back the urge to laugh.

Rodney did have a point about the dark, though. The beams from the gun lights were barely enough to penetrate the thick and heavy darkness. More than the darkness, the air itself held a heavy, oppressive weight that pressed down upon Sheppard's chest and quickly drove cheerful thoughts from his mind. He was sure the same thing was happening to Rodney, but Rodney was making no effort to act stoic like Sheppard was. Ronon, Teyla, and Carson were holding up well too, though Carson kept throwing nervous glances around.

"This place...has a very..._evil..._feel to it," said Teyla, her voice laden with apprehension. Sheppard agreed wholeheartedly - the sooner they left, the better.

"See, I'm not the only person who thinks that! _Ha!" _yelled Rodney.

"Rodney," said Teyla, though she was smiling, "do quiet down, please."

"Yeah, or else the bats will eat you," quipped Sheppard.

"We'll be out soon, won't we?" said Carson. "I mean, this is just a basic reconnaissance mission, isn't it? Right? Am I right?"

So many questions in that one, thought Sheppard ruefully. He'd like to leave soon too, though. All they were doing was scouting out the area, since the MALP had detected a village in the distance. Why anyone would want to live somewhere so creepy was beyond him.

"We should've landed on the day side of the planet," Rodney was moaning.

"Grow a spine, McKay," said Ronon.

"Besides, the stargate's on the night side," pointed out Sheppard.

"Still, we could at least wait until it's day!" Rodney said.

Sheppard felt like teasing Rodney more, but he could see how terrified the Canadian scientist's terror, so refrained from speaking. Everyone else fell into a grave silence as well, and in silence they nervously trekked the loamy earth and aimed their guns through the trees, mindful of the occasional shrieks and wingbeats issuing from the distance.

_Yeah, it _is _pretty creepy here, _thought Sheppard. _Maybe we should have come at day._

But hey, he wasn't Rodney_, _and he certainly wasn't afraid of the dark!

And then before he could register what was happening, figures melted from the darkness ahead and shot at the Atlantis team. Reflexes took over for Sheppard and he sprayed the attackers with shots, shots that they returned with bolts of stunner light.

"They're Wraith!" roared Ronon above the din of combat. "An ambush!"

Sheppard fired - Wraith fell. More continued to leap out of the trees and stream from the darkness, but that was okay, they fell easily to his gun. He, Ronon, and Teyla fired with fierce determination into the ambushing Wraith, and even Carson and Rodney managed to get in a good shot now and then.

The Wraith were nearly all disposed of by now, for which Sheppard was grateful - he was tired and sweating profusely, and his arms ached from firing the gun so much. "So, that's it, then?" he panted, turning to his comrades.

"I s'pose," said Ronon, shrugging.

"Let's go back to Atlantis as quick as possible," said Teyla. "We must alert Elizabeth immediately."

"Sounds like a plan," a white-faced and wide-eyed Carson said.

"_Auuughhh! Sheppard! Ronon! Teyla! Carson! Help me!"_

"Rodney!" yelled Sheppard, instinctively crashing through the branches toward the source of Rodney's panicked screams. There were two Wraith - they were holding Rodney - one had his hand positioned over Rodney's chest - Rodney's eyes were wide as saucers and he shook and whimpered -

"Let the hell _go _of him!" roared Sheppard, but he could do nothing for fear that a badly aimed shot would hit Rodney. The Wraith turned to glance at Sheppard. They were not the faceless drones that Sheppard and friends had been fighting, but taller, long-coated Wraith. Commanders. One of them, a tall one sporting an impressive goatee, offered Sheppard a derisive smirk.

"Tell us why, Colonel Sheppard," he said mockingly, his hand hovering over Rodney's chest. Rodney sucked in deep, rattling breaths and fixed his gaze on the completely black sky. "Oh, God, oh, God, oh God," he gasped.

"I'm _warning _you," shouted Sheppard, pointing his gun at the Wraith. Both chuckled and the goateed one clamped his hand right over Rodney's heart. Rodney screamed - a shriek that sucked all of Sheppard's blood back towards his heart. Again he cocked his gun, but the Wraith positioned themselves so that no matter how he shot, he would end up hitting Rodney.

Just then, his (rather slow) comrades came crashing through the underbrush. Ronon roared in rage and firing angry red bursts from his gun - the Wraith crumpled and Rodney hit the forest floor with a miserable thump. Teyla and Carson ran to his side and helped him stand, while he shook and moaned and groaned.

"Thanks for the save, big guy," said Sheppard, grinning at Ronon.

"No problem," said Ronon. "Least I could do."

"_John - ! Behind you!"_

Sheppard barely heard Teyla's terrified shriek before he turned around and found a Wraith stunner pressed against his forehead.

* * *

_I've been taken prisoner. I'm in a Wraith prison. That's why it's so squishy, 'cause it's the Wraith, you know, and they like their squishy. _

Sheppard was amazed that he could think such wry thoughts even when confronted by Wraith. Thankfully, it didn't hurt too much to think anymore. The pounding in his head had subsided into a dull ache; experimentally, he cracked his eyes open and was not greeted by a flood of light, but by the sight of walls made of the Wraith's characteristic organic tendrils. Through the bars of what was obviously his cell a group of Wraith was lined up like a yearbook photo, the goateed Wraith at the front and center.

"Colonel Sheppard," repeated the goateed Wraith, a smirk evident in his deep voice. "You are finally awake."

"Ungh...and I'm to take that this God-awful hangover I've got is courtesy of you?" grunted Sheppard, hauling himself to a sitting position. His head still ached and his vision was blurry, but at the very least he could move. Regaining his memories seemed to have reset his cognitive processes as well.

The goateed Wraith chuckled without humor. "Colonel Sheppard, we have done our best to ensure that you have not been hurt...within reasonable limits, of course."

"What do you want with me?" snapped Sheppard, deciding to drop the wit (just a little). "And where's the rest of my team?"

"Don't worry, they escaped," said the Wraith. "We have no need for them, anyway."

"You think? Well, that just goes back to my first question, doesn't it? What the hell are you planning on using me for?"

Goatee's smirk widened, if possible. "Later, Colonel. That is not for you to know at the moment."

"Yeah, but I'd _like _to know," retorted Sheppard. "Since your kind aren't big on taking prisoners. Usually you'd have eaten me already, huh?"

The goateed Wraith (damn, he needed a better name...) continued to smirk at Sheppard through the bars. "You will know...later."

"I take that to mean that whatever you want with me isn't exactly pleasant on my part?" said Sheppard. "Well? Hot or cold?"

The Wraith peered impassively at Sheppard, his expression unfathomable due to the both of the dim light and Sheppard's bleary vision. "We will return...later."

This Wraith was quite fond of that word.

"Fine by me," said Sheppard, yawning and stretching out. "I'm damn tired, anyway." The goateed Wraith stared at Sheppard through the bars for a moment longer, before spinning around and leaving. His drone consort thudded after him. Sheppard watched them depart, and felt his head begin to pound again.

So the Wraith had taken him prisoner - but for what? Goatee wouldn't say, except that Sheppard would know "later." When it came to the Wraith, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Did he want to be held in suspense wondering what they would do, or did he want to know what nefarious plot they had in store? He honestly didn't know, but for now, he had other things to worry about.

_Yeah, right. You've only got _yourself _to worry about, unless they were lying when they said the team got away._

Although his greatest urge was to sleep, Sheppard resisted and instead inspected himself. He was still in his uniform (why would the Wraith want to strip him, anyway...? Such bizarre thoughts), but his weapons and communication equipment were all gone. He gingerly reached for the back of his head and winced when his fingers brushed a particularly tender spot. Flakes of dried blood fell off on to the squishy floor.

_Damn. _That must have been one intense injury. A simple stunner couldn't do that. What had happened to him?

Well, now he knew why his head hurt so badly. He'd obviously hit his head quite badly, to the point of drawing blood. The rest of him appeared okay, excepting a few minor scratches and bruises from his wild rampage through the underbrush when he had been searching for Rodney. He also sported a bristly stubble even more impressive than his usual permanant shadow. How long had he been out?

His head was throbbing badly now and a aching weariness had settled over his limbs. Obeying his instincts, Sheppard slumped on to the squishy floor and let his eyelids drift shut. At least the floor's squishiness made it a nice mattress, and he slept well.

* * *

Colonel Sheppard had no idea how long he had languished in the cell until he was visited by another Wraith. His sleep, at the very least, had done wonders for both his body and head. But now he found himself suffering a new problem:

He was hungry.

That told him he must have been here for some time, since the instant he woke up, his stomach was churning like mad. He tried to remember when he'd last eaten...it had been lunch at Atlantis, and he'd had a tuna-salad sandwich and an Athosian fruit and yogurt parfait and a Pepsi. Oh, how he craved a sandwich now...or some pizza...or a burger, yes a juicy rare burger, slathered with ketchup and pickles and onions and melting cheese, and a side order of crispy golden fries and an enromous, ice-cold Pepsi...

Such thoughts did little to relieve his hunger.

By the time the Wraith had arrived, Sheppard had managed to scrounge up two Powerbars stuffed in his jacket's inside pocket. Though his instinct had been to devour them both immediately, he realized that the Wraith might not feed him, and so he sadly divided the Powerbars into bite-sized rations. He had eaten one, but it had done nothing to curb his appetite.

He was beginning to consider eating another portion (_It's just one, _he told himself), when the loud stomping of a drone sent daggers through his still tender head. Sheppard whirled around and instinctively reached for his gun - but it wasn't there. Damn.

What _was _there was a soldier drone that held a plain metal tray with a bowl and a tin cup of water on it. Without a word the drone slipped it under the bars (which had risen slightly, to allow the food tray's entry), before turning around and stomping away like an elephant.

"Hey, you didn't even give me a chance to say thank you," called Sheppard after the drone, witty as ever despite his growling stomach. And speaking of growling stomachs...

He seized the tray and pulled it towards him. Previously, Sheppard wouldn't even have touched the bowl's contents - some thick, greenish-whitish slop that looked like it had been reconstituted from a foil package. It smelled awful too, but to his starving eyes it was almost a Quarter Pounder with cheese.

"Bon appetit," he announced, and started searching with which to eat the slop - only to realize that there was no cutlery.

"Didn't even have a single fork to spare, did you?" he called indignantly. Then again, Wraith didn't need utensils to eat what _they _did. He scowled and decided to slurp from the bowl. The stuff, whatever it was, was completely flavorless, though slightly bitter.

When he'd emptied the bowl, he turned to the water. It tasted strange, slightly sour, and there was a layer of white residue around the rim of the cup. _Wash your cups a little better. Use less soap! _he mentally tiraded before downing the water.

Soon after his meal, he began to feel sleepy and sluggish again, and his headache had returned with a kicking-and-screaming vengeance. If anything he felt worse than he had when he'd first awoken - a disgusting bitter-sour taste clung to his mouth and throat and his body was heavier than a lead weight. Right before he sank to the squishy floor and closed his eyes, he glanced at the cup again. Its sleek metal inside, not just the rim, was covered with a sour-smelling white powder.

_They've drugged the food, _his sluggish brain managed to churn out before he slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

Just as before, the gentle thud of footfalls awoke Sheppard from his slumber. Not the graceless stomping of drones - whoever was heading his direction was taking great pains to tread carefully. Even that slight noise hurt Sheppard's sleep-befogged head.

"Ungh...gonna tell me now...?" he grumbled, pulling himself upright and shaking his head to clear it. He still felt heavy and stupid.

_No more eating their food, _he told himself. Even if he starved, at least he wouldn't be pumped full of drugs.

"Well? What're you going to do with me?" Sheppard called into the darkness. He couldn't believe that initially he'd been overwhelmed with light every time he opened his eyes - like any Wraith facility worth its salt, everything was barely lit enough for him to see a few feet ahead of him.

"Hell_ooo," _he scowled, annoyed now. Maybe he was just imagining it, but he was certain that he heard somebody coming his way. He folded his arms and waited for Goatee to finally show his smirking face and tell him exactly what it was the Wraith wanted with him.

But the Wraith who stopped in front of his cell bars wasn't Goatee. He didn't look like any Wraith Sheppard had seen before. The Wraith's standard long black coat swamped a skinny frame, and his build was hardly tall and imposing - in fact, he appeared about a head shorter than Sheppard. His long white hair wasn't that unusual for his species, but he didn't bother tying it back and it fell into his eyes. Eyes unlike any that Sheppard had seen on anyone, Wraith or human Large and pale and luminous, they glowed with an inquisitive light that Sheppard almost found entrancing.

Of course he didn't, since those eyes still belonged to a Wraith! He shook his head to clear away the last dandruff of sleep and struggled for something clever to say. To his surprise, words ecaped him.

"Colonel Sheppard," said the Wraith with a little jerk of his head that might have been a greeting. His voice was surprising, too - not harsh and deep like that of most Wraith, but so soft it was barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, hi, that's my name," Sheppard said, not very witty at all. _Pull yourself together, John! Who cares how different he looks or talks, he's still a Wraith! _Something intrigued him, though, and he had to voice it. "Hey, how do you all know my name, anyway?"

The Wraith blinked twice. "Our fellows have had encounters with you and - and your team."

"Ah..." muttered Sheppard, leaning back against the wall. "Yeah, I guess we've made quite a name for myself, haven't we?"

The Wraith surveyed Sheppard for what felt like an eternity. Didn't he need to blink? Sheppard was beginning to find the Wraith's unwavering, pale-eyed stare disturbing. Or perhaps what he found more disturbing was the fact that the Wraith had yet to snarl or threaten him.

"You're unusual humans," the Wraith finally said. Sheppard jerked, startled at hearing the Wraith's quiet voice after the silence.

"What, is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?" said Sheppard, frowning.

"It is...it's an observation," said the Wraith. "You are highly unusual, you humans from Atlantis. You fight back. You resist."

"Well, of course we do, we don't want to be eaten_, _you know," Sheppard said peevishly.

"But other humans don't fight, and you are our food. Food shouldn't resist being eaten," the Wraith said with the air of a lecturing teacher. Sheppard bit back the incongruous urge to laugh - well, he might have actually laughed had a typical Wraith like Steve just said those words, but that would've just been a show for bravado's sake. This Wraith - or rather, his manner- he found actually amusing. It was so unthreatening that Sheppard had to remind himself that this was indeed a life-sucking monster he was talking to.

"Look, we're not food_, _okay," he said, though he knew such explanations had no effect on the Wraith. Still, didn't hurt to try. We're people, and we just want to live happy lives and marry and have kids and have fun and be rich. Well, only some of us...but none of us can do that with you Wraith running around trying to eat us."

"Humans are food," said the Wraith stubbornly. "We have never had food that resisted so much before. Your expedition is well known among us. Many hives compete trying to be the first one to cull Atlantis."

Now Sheppard laughed for real. "Yeah, like _that's _going to happen! Listen, for as long as we can, until we either all die or win this war, we're going to keep on fighting. That's just the way things are."

The Wraith didn't reply. He just stared, which Sheppard found more disturbing than any threat (hell, he'd probably die laughing if this effeminate little Wraith tried to threaten him). Those wide, luminous eyes...he knew it was illogical and stupid, but being scrutinized by them made him feel as if every secret, every past shame, was laid bare over his soul for the Wraith to judge.

_Don't be dumb, he can't read minds, _Sheppard told himself. He matched the Wraith's stare with a grin that he didn't feel, and leaned against the wall and stretched his legs out.

"You are an unusual human, too," said the Wraith. Sheppard frowned.

"Again, can't decide if that's a compliment or an insult," he said.

"You aren't afraid," the Wraith said. Sheppard laughed again.

"No, why should I be?" He wasn't a total wimp like Rodney, stupid Rodney who'd been afraid of the dark. The instant the thought crossed his mind, he felt guilty - after all, Rodney had almost been eaten by the Wraith.

_Yeah, I saved his ass, and this is the thanks I get? _he thought, but it was all in jest. The team would rescue him, and if they didn't, he would break out himself. Well..._after _his head stopped hurting so much.

"Most humans, when we take them prisoners," said the Wraith, "are terrified. They cry and beg to be released, or they cower...but you're still calm."

"Hey, panicking never got anyone anywhere, that's my philosophy," said Sheppard with another false grin. Since he felt it'd be cowardly to look away, but he didn't want to meet the Wraith's unblinking gaze, he settled for examining the rest of him. He was surprised by how small and light the Wraith's build was - certainly, most Wraith commanders weren't exactly bodybuilders, but they did have at least _some _muscle definition. Had this Wraith been human, Sheppard would've thought he was anemic; the green of his skin was paler than that of most Wraith, an almost minty shade. Nor did he have a beard or elaborate tattoos - his chin was small and pointed and the only tattoo he sported was a thin zigzag beneath his left eye. All things considered, he looked quite...young.

"What...what are you, anyway? A scientist or an administrator?" said Sheppard, genuinely curious. He couldn't imagine this Wraith doing anything remotely Wraith-like. He looked like the kind of person who wandered around lost in his own thoughts.

"You're interested?" said the Wraith, blinking. About time.

"Well, just a little," said Sheppard. "I mean, Wraith have different jobs, don't they? What do you do?"

Why was he curious? It didn't matter, since all Wraith were the same to him - they wanted to eat him. Or use him for some nebulous but probably not very pleasant task, as the goateed Wraith planned. But this Wraith...he seemed different from most. Gentler. As gentle as an evil alien could be, of course... Not to mention, Sheppard was starved for decent conversation. Throwing quips at a cackling Wraith was only so much fun and the drones didn't talk at all.

The Wraith surveyed Sheppard from behind his long bangs, before saying, "I am studying to be a scientist, under the Wraith in charge of this facility."

"What?" said Sheppard. "Studying?" _Well, of course, you think they just pop out knowing everything they do? _Then again, he'd never given much thought to how Wraith society worked becausehe'd been too busy trying not to get killed by them.

It struck Sheppard that he could use this information - see, that was why it paid off to converse even with a Wraith. "So you're pretty close to the people at the top, huh?"

"You really are...you are an interesting human," the Wraith said, which was quite a bit of a non sequitur. Sheppard frowned.

"Well...I was just wondering," he said, trying again to get the Wraith to answer the question he _wanted _answered, "maybe _you _know what's going on? Y'know, what your higher-ups want me for?"

"I've never met a human like you before," continued the Wraith. Sheppard felt like yelling in frustration. It was if there were two different conversations going on, each cancelling out the other.

"'Course, you don't _have _to, but it'd be great if you had even a little bit of intel..."

"You interest me," said the Wraith. "Lt. Colonel John Sheppard."

Sheppard's first instinct was to shoot back a quip, but he met the Wraith's gaze and the breath was knocked from his throat. For a heart-stopping second he lost everything, even his own body - all he saw was the silvery depths of the Wraith's eyes, burning with an emotion that Sheppard couldn't understand, nor did he really want to. It _disturbed _him. But at the same time, it...

"You know," Sheppard said, "you kind of interest me too."

The Wraith's eyes widened but he said nothing. Sheppard found that he didn't mind meeting his gaze now, and so he maintained eye contact with this strange young scientist who considered Colonel Sheppard interesting. Somehow, Sheppard sensed an opportunity just beyond his grasp, but he didn't know exactly what it entailed. Or even if he wanted to seize it.

Then, without another word, the Wraith turned around and departed, his too-long coat swirling behind him. Sheppard watched, feeling dazed as if he had just awakened from a dream. His head was starting to throb again, and he dug his knuckles into his temple.

"Wait a minute..." he said a few minutes later, indignant. "He never answered my questions!"

* * *

I changed the most about Keith and Sheppard's first meeting, to make it more realistic for Sheppard's character and to clear up the rather muddled physical description of Keith.

Please do review, especially if you've read this story in its unedited form. I want to know if the changes are working or not.


	2. Name

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Two: Name_

Another edited chapter.

Seems I've forgotten to mention that this story takes place circa season three, a little bit after "Common Ground."

* * *

"We are going to get him back this instant,you hear? Let's quit dithering around, assemble a team pronto, and go the hell back!"shouted Dr. Rodney McKay as he paced around the meeting room, pausing only to wring his hands so fast they were blurs.

"I'm truly sorry, Rodney, but it's too dangerous, and we have no idea where the Wraith took John," said Dr. Elizabeth Weir, in a tone implying that she too wished that she could magically rescue Sheppard right then and there.

"I don't remember you being so eager to go the first time," Ronon said dryly. "Especially since you were afraid of those man-eating 'bats.'"

"Look - !" shouted Rodney, rounding on Ronon. "It's _my _fault, okay? Yeah, you heard me, it's my fault that Sheppard got captured! So - so I feel, well, _responsible, _all right? He got captured because he was trying to save me, and I'd never be able to live it down if he - you know - because of me! You all have some kind of problem with that? So don't you laugh in my face, big guy, 'cause let me tell you, I'm gonna - I'll - I swear I - "

As usually happened with Rodney's tirades, he descended into senseless sputtering. But he'd already made his point and made it quite well._  
_

"Rodney," Weir said, astonished. The rest of the team stared in unmasked surprise at Rodney. Such wanton displays of heroism were once in a blue moon from their famously self-centered scientist. It was touching, if a bit scary at the same time.

"We understand, Dr. McKay," said Teyla. "You are not the only one who wants to return to that planet and rescue John as soon as we can."

"Yeah, I'd like to kick some Wraith ass too," growled Ronon.

"Aye, we can't just leave Colonel Sheppard to die," said Carson.

"See!" shouted Rodney, whirling around to face Weir. "See? We all want to get him back! Come _on, _Elizabeth! You know all that about - you know - we don't leave our people behind, do we? The sooner we do it, the better. All in favor, say aye!"

"Aye," said Carson.

"Let's go," said Ronon.

"We must rescue John," Teyla said, nodding.

"See? Everyone agrees, no questions asked, let's hop to it." Rodney leapt to the balls of his feet, prepared to dash to the jumper bay, but Weir held up a hand to stop him.

"No, I can't let you. It's far too risky," she said firmly.

"Aw - ! Come _on! _You want to get Sheppard back too, don't you?" he yelled. "I know you do!"

"I do_, _Rodney," said Weir with a regretful sigh. "But this isn't just about my - _our_ - feelings, you know that. Think logically. Do you know where the dart went after the culling beam caught Sheppard and the Wraith?"

Rodney looked at Ronon, who looked at Teyla, who looked at Carson, who shot Rodney a helpless glance. Their expressions spoke for them.

"Precisely," said Weir. "We can't leap into danger without any idea what we're getting into. We must put together a plan, and before we do even that, we must find out where the dart went. For all we know, John could be halfway across the galaxy now."

Rodney opened his mouth to make some kind of , however, beat him to it.

"That's probably true, but...the dart _was _headed west, wasn't it?"

"Well, yes, it probably _was, _I'm surprised you can even _remember _- " Rodney said with his characteristic gentleness.

"Yeah, Beckett's right," cut in Ronon, leaning back in his seat, and fixing Rodney with a look that the good Canadian scientist did not want to challenge. He scowled and made to ask the question he was sure was on everyone's mind - what was so important about west anyway? - but once more he was cut off, this time by Weir.

"Yes...didn't the MALP detect signs of human habitation in the west?" she said.

Well, _this _was getting somewhere. Rodney exchanged glances with Carson, and then Teyla, and then Ronon, and finally, settled on Weir with a triumphant smile. He folded his arms and said, "Well. That's a start, isn't it? Come on, Elizabeth - let's send a team to the village and see what we can find there_. _Okay?"

Weir's expression was pensive and a little doubting, but after a while her gaze sharpened and she said, "All right, Rodney. You'd best get going as soon as possible. And - be careful."

"Will do, Elizabeth," said Rodney. "Come on, guys, let's go." He beckoned to the rest of the team, and together they left to gather their equipment before heading to the gate room.

* * *

When Sheppard opened his eyes, the same young Wraith that had visited him yesterday was standing before his bars. He was instantly recognizable, though something seemed a little odd about him - it struck Sheppard that he'd swept his sheepdog-like bangs back from his forehead in an effort to control them. It made him look more Wraith-like, which disturbed Sheppard though he couldn't say why.

To keep his mind off such thoughts, he decided to speak. "Hey, you're back."

"You haven't eaten," the Wraith said, and this was true. Sheppard's meal from earlier that day had been pushed to the far corner of the cell completely untouched, because when he'd examined it he found the same whitish powder coating the water cup and the bowl. His stomach was growling like an angry cat but he told it to shut up. Starvation was better than drugged sleep.

Already, he felt better - though his head still throbbed, it didn't ache with the same intensity it had yesterday (well, he couldn't be sure if it was yesterday; the passage of time was difficult to judge when you were locked up). Nor were his limbs so stiff. Now, if only his stomach would shut up, he might actually feel energetic enough to do...something. Maybe even escape.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't bother me," Sheppard lied. Once again, he tried not to fantasize about Quarter Pounders with cheese.

"Hmm," said the Wraith, glancing at the uneaten meal and then back at Sheppard - the movement of his head dislodged a lock of his bangs and swept it over his forehead again. "I thought that humans had to feed at least once a day. That is what my research proved, and I told my superiors that. They had been planning on only feeding you once every few months, just as it is for Wraith."

"Really?" said Sheppard, and he grudgingly admitted he felt grateful towards the anemic Wraith. He would have died if they'd fed him once every few months...though as a plus, he wouldn't end up so drugged. He wondered if this Wraith knew if the food was drugged, but he didn't seem to..."You research humans?"

"It's my specialty," said the Wraith, jerking his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.

"You research your food?" said Sheppard, incredulous. "Why would you want to do that?"

For the first time the Wraith looked away and he became fascinated by the squishy floor. Almost as if he was...embarrassed. A laughable thought - what kind of Wraith became embarrassed? They were always so confident.

But no kind of Wraith had eyes like that, either...

"It's...well...the superiors have me do it because they would like their food to be more 'palatable,' in their words," the Wraith said, still refusing to meet Sheppard's gaze. Sheppard wasn't sure if he liked it or not; the intensity of the Wraith's stares disturbed him, but at the same time, it felt strange not making eye contact during a conversation.

"Yeah, I'd imagine," said Sheppard. "Maybe they'd like for us to be more, y'know, nutritious. I'm sure we're mostly fat. Not me, though."

As the Wraith stared at the floor, more and more clumps of his swept-back bangs fell over his eyes, further obscuring them. He seemed to realize this, because he distractedly brushed his hair out of his face and tried tucking the longer locks behind his ears. Sheppard watched, fascinated, though he didn't know why. Watching someone fix their hair was dull indeed...but only if they were human. He was fascinated because he'd never seen a Wraith perform such a human action before.

"But...as for me...I...it actually...it..." Sheppard stared. Was a Wraith at a loss for words? Wraith by nature didn't talk much, but when they did, they confidently snarled threats like "I am your death" and the like. Seeing a Wraith stammer made his head spin.

"Studying humans...actually...it actually interests me..." finished the Wraith, finally meeting Sheppard's confused stare. 'It interests me. Humans, their physiology, their society."

"Mm, nothing wrong with that," Sheppard said, wondering why the Wraith was looking at him as if he expected him to disapprove. "Know thy enemy, as they say." _Or food, _he thought, disgruntled

"So why haven't you eaten?"

Sheppard was startled by the change in tangents, until he remembered that the conversation about studying humans had begun over his...lunch? Breakfast? Dinner? Sheppard had no idea what time it was. The Wraith in charge had taken his watch, the bastards.

"Well...like I said, I'm not particularly hungry," said Sheppard, casting the food what he hoped was a casual, not longing, glance. Even a five-year-old could see through that lie.

"You ought to eat, you know," the Wraith. Sheppard frowned. Was the Wraith actually concerned about his welfare?

"It's in the best interests of the superiors to keep you alive for the time being," the Wraith went on. Of course. Why would a Wraith care about a human's welfare? Only if it was in their best interest to...

"Hey, wait, you know what they're going to do with me?" demanded Sheppard. Wonderful - he had a chance to spring the questions he'd wanted to ask yesterday, though he doubted that he'd get a reply. Yesterday the Wraith had been pretty much playing deaf.

To further emphasize his urgency, he stood up and walked right to the bars so that only inches were separating him from the Wraith. It was a strange sensation, staring down at a Wraith, especially when the eyes gazing back at him weren't golden and feral but wide and moon-colored.

"I cannot tell you," the Wraith said.

"Why?" demanded Sheppard, frustrating bubbling inside him. "'Cause you don't know, or because you've been forbidden from talking?"

The Wraith shook his head so that his hair swung in a curtain around his face. "...both, Colonel."

"Oh, wonderful," Sheppard groaned. "But I figure they're planning on keeping me for a long time...you did say they wanted to feed me once every few months..."

_They won't keep me for that long. The others will come. I mean, we don't leave our people behind, do we?_

"Perhaps you're really not that different from the other humans," said the Wraith suddenly, his eyes flashing. "Are you not eating because you want to starve yourself to death? Some of the others did that too. They were weak, weak and afraid. Are _you _weak and afraid, Colonel Sheppard?"

Sheppard returned the Wraith's glare, offended - yet at the same time, enthralled. Nobody in the galaxy had ever dared suggest that he was "weak and afraid.". They all knew Colonel John Sheppard as a formidable force, the military leader of Atlantis, who had defeated multiple enemies and always got the girl. But this skinny young Wraith dared to hurl such accusations into Sheppard's face.

It was new to Sheppard, and somehow, he found he didn't really mind.

"No, I'm not," he said, slipping his hands in his pockets. "In fact, I'd eat all of that slop if it wasn't, you know, _drugged_."

"Drugged?" The Wraith blinked, and all of his anger and sharpness had dissipated.

"That's right," Sheppard said. "I don't know what you folks are putting in here, but it's got to stop. There's some kind of sleeping drug in the food, and that's why I'm not eating it. Go tell your superiors to stop slipping drugs in the chow and I'll down every last ounce of it."

"I...I didn't know...I really...I didn't..." the Wraith stammered, glancing back and forth between the food in the corner and Sheppard. "I don't understand why they would do something like that..."

"Maybe it has something to do with your mysterious plan that apparently you'll reveal 'later'," said Sheppard, making sure to emphasize "later." Speaking of "later," where was that goateed Wraith, anyway?

That could be his name. Later. Later, who was taking his sweet time coming to interrogate his prisoner. Not that Sheppard minded, though the suspense was starting to grate on his nerves. Later had better come down sooner and divulge all the Wraith's plans, or Sheppard would bust out of here himself. The latter option was infinitely preferable, anyhow.

"I told you, I know nothing about it," the Wraith said..

"That's too bad," said Sheppard with a shrug. "But hey, I plan to be out of here by the time you guys get around to revealing your plot, anyway."

The Wraith gave Sheppard a glance that, to Sheppard's surprise, was hard to read. He looked a little confused, but intrigued at the same time - but it was all overlaid with a layer of scorn. Sheppard responded by folding his arms.

"What? Don't believe I can do it, can you? Well, I guess I'll have to show you," he said, rubbing his prickly chin. Damn, he needed a shave. He wondered if he could ask his guards to spare some razors...did Wraith need to shave? He looked at the baby-faced youth opposite him, who'd probably never touched a razor in his life, but then thought about Later's impressive goatee and decided that there must be _some _razors in the facility.

"You actually believe you can escape," said the Wraith, his tone suffused with disbelief. Sheppard grinned.

"'Course I do, kiddo. I've escaped from the Wraith tons of times before. All part of the job description, you know?"

"I was wrong, Colonel Sheppard," the Wraith murmured, lowering his head so that his hair cascaded over his eyes again. "You are...you truly are different from the others. To believe that you can escape...you are a fascinating human."

Before Sheppard could think of a suitably witty response, the Wraith looked up and made eye contact with Sheppard. For an electrifying moment, Sheppard was lost in those luminous depths and anything he might have said disappeared in the blank buzzing space that his mind had become. The moment passed only when the Wraith started down the hall again.

"Your lot is really bad with good-byes, you know!" called Sheppard after the retreating Wraith's back. He didn't know why he wanted a good-bye, but for the conversation to just end like that...didn't feel right. Hell, he'd almost enjoyed it, much as he could enjoy talking to a Wraith.

Sheppard fully expected the Wraith to ignore him and continue on his merry way, but to his surprise, the Wraith stopped in his tracks. He didn't turn around to face Sheppard again, though.

"I...I will try to persuade my superiors to stop placing sleeping drugs in your food," said the Wraith. Without another word, he strode down the hall again before disappearing around a squishy corner. Not a good-bye, but it was a start, he supposed.

Sheppard watched the Wraith until he rounded that corner, and plopped on the cell floor, leaning against the wall and resting his head on his arms. "Dammit, should've had him ask the superiors what they wanted to do with me..."

Although Sheppard wasn't the sort to push his luck. He was already grateful to have a sort-of-ally in this weird young Wraith, though he hoped this "alliance" wouldn't last too long.

* * *

In the daytime, the forest wasn't all that scary anymore. Dr. Rodney McKay couldn't believe that he'd been dead terrified of the place - it looked like any normal overgrown wood, wild and lush and rife with branches that whipped at his head and vines that tangled around his ankles - treacherous, but not frightening. He pricked his ears, but couldn't hear so much as the faintest shriek. All that greeted his ears were the cheerful trills of birds.

"It's like a completely different world," marveled Carson, glancing at the colorful birds flitting from overgrown branch to branch.

"Yeah, _that _thing wasn't around last night," said Ronon wryly, indicating a sapphire-blue bird with two heads. Rodney saw the bird and jumped.

"Okay, now _that _is creepy as all hell!" he shouted. "Shoo! _Shoo!" _He waved his arms at the bird, which took off in a flutter of blue feathers, panicked chirps issuing from its two beaks.

"Calm down, Rodney," said Teyla, although she was smiling. "A bird is nothing to fear."

"But it had - it had _two heads!" _cried Rodney. He'd visited many planets, but up until now he had never seen such a thing as a two-headed bird, and damn was it freaky. Birds with two heads belonged in horror movies, not in the lush green forests of a planet in the Pegasus Galaxy.

"Don't look now, but that bird has three heads and five legs," Ronon said. Rodney scowled.

"Ha _ha, _very funny. I'm sure you're convinced that you're a paragon of wit, aren't you?" he snapped, pushing aside a tangle of branches in front of his face. "Come on, let's go, no time to waste!"

"What's a paragon?" said Ronon to his remaining companions. Teyla shrugged and trotted after Rodney's retreating back, and Carson followed suit. Ronon brought up the rear, aiming his gun through the trees in case the Wraith decided on another ambush...

But none came. The rest of the team's trek through the forest was uneventful, aside from an incident in which Rodney encountered a three-tailed, two-headed lizard creature. He'd screamed and fired at with his pistol, driving the rest of the team into a panic because they thought he'd encountered enemies. _That _had been a doozy to explain...

After that, everything proceeded normally. No Wraith appeared. In the distance, laughing children and barking dogs could be heard.

"Here we are," announced Rodney, which was rather unnecessary since they had obviously exited the forest and now stood at the outskirts of a village that unremarkable as far as Pegasus Galaxy villages went - small wooden cottages, people in rough-spun clothes, children playing in the dirt with six-tailed dogs...

Rodney wondered if a nuclear reactor had exploded somewhere in this world.

"Um, hello, hello, fair people of - whatever your nice little hamlet is called," he said, raising his hands in greeting. Many of the villagers had already dropped whatever they were doing and were staring mutely at the strangers.

"We - we come in peace," Carson added. The villagers continued to stare as if Rodney and his team had two heads. Wrong analogy; coming from _this _planet, that probably wouldn't make them bat an eyelash.

Teyla, thankfully, swooped in with a much less awkward - and cliched - greeting. Putting on her best smile, she stepped forward and said, "We're explorers from far away, and we would like to speak to your leader if that's possible."

The villagers exchanged glances and whispered amongst themselves. After a few minutes of deliberation, a nervous-looking man with a scraggly mustache stepped forward and said, "I will - I will take you to Poncho, if you'd follow me, please." Without bothering to make sure that the team was following him, he turned around and half-walked, half-jogged down an unpaved dirt road leading to the center of the village.

"Poncho?" said Rodney, turning to the rest of the time. "Did I just hear him right? He _did _say 'Poncho,' right?"

The others just shrugged.

"Do you think they know about the Wraith?" Teyla asked him. Rodney frowned and glanced at the villagers they passed, many of whom stopped to gawk at the strangers.

"No idea. Guess we should ask this - this _Poncho _guy." Already, Rodney sensed that the diplomatic relationship between Atlantis and this village would get off on a rocky start. Hey, it wasn't his fault that he wanted to laugh every time he heard that name. "Poncho" wasn't even a name!

"Poncho - here, here," called the skinny man when they reached the village square, which was more like a cluster of matchbox cottages ringing a dirt circle. Villagers milled and chatted around a well in the center of the circle and six-tailed dogs and three-eyed cats ran wild through the reddish dirt. Rodney did his best not to look at the animals.

Poncho stepped forward from a particularly thick clump of villagers. He was tall and rotund and his jacket strained to cover his bulging belly. Peering through his impressive tangled beard and mustache was a large and foolish smile.

"They say they are explorers," said the skinny man. Poncho rested dark little eyes on Rodney and the team.

"Uh, hi," said Rodney, raising a hand. "I'm...I'm their leader."

Ronon made a noise that could be interpreted as a scoff.

"Explorers, hmmm?" said Poncho, rubbing his beard with a sausage-like finger.

"Yeah, explorers," echoed Rodney.

"We're peaceful explorers," added Carson. He seemed awfully fixated on the idea of peace.

"Peaceful explorers? Well, do make yourselves welcome here in our humble village of Little Neven." Poncho smiled widely, revealing that the few teeth he had left were yellow and rotting. "What is your business with us?"

"Um...well, Mr. Poncho," said Rodney, and congratulated himself for not laughing when he said the name. "Well, I hope it's not a, um, inconvenience to your village, but we're looking - well, last night, did you see some sort of...ship fly over your village?"

"A ship?" Poncho raised a thick eyebrow. Rodney inwardly punched himself - _Duh, McKay you idiot,these people don't have space travel, how the hell do _they _know how a ship looks like?_

"Yeah...it was...an, ah, flying thing," Rodney said, and dimly he remembered mocking Sheppard last night for not being able to explain what a bat was to Ronon. Well, here he was the next morning, describing a Wraith dart as poetically as Sheppard had described a bat.

Sheppard would have shot back some witty reply along the lines of, "Who's Shakespeare now?" but Sheppard wasn't here.

He wasn't here because of Rodney.

Once more, Teyla took charge, bless her. "Yes. A thin, sleek, dark shape flying somewhere above the village, very quickly - faster than a bird - heading this direction. Did your people see anything of that sort last night?"

A look of recognition dawned over Poncho's ruddy face. "Ah! You must be speaking about the craft of the Wraith. They are called darts, correct?'

"The Wraith?" echoed Rodney, Teyla, and Carson.

"You know about them?" growled Ronon, and his hand moved to his gun. Poncho didn't seem to notice for he nodded and gave a jolly laugh.

"Of course! They come often, and thanks to them, none of the other villages attack us. All they ask for are a few sacrifices every few months, and they care for us like the devoted gods they are."

The fact that Poncho had known about the Wraith wasn't surprising - nearly every human civilization in Pegasus were familiar with the Wraith, but most feared them. Apparently not Poncho, who considered them "devoted gods."

"You worship the _Wraith?" _spat Ronon, drawing his gun in single quick motion. Teyla placed a hand on Ronon's arm and shot him a warning look.

"Ronon, _no," _she said.

"Devoted gods...that's...that's quite nice," stammered Carson, though he didn't sound very sincere. Rodney understood what was running through Carson's and Teyla's minds - it was best to stay in these people's good graces, because if they were Wraith allies, they might know something about Sheppard's current location.

Or maybe they had even played a role in Sheppard's abduction.

Rodney found heh had pressed his hand to his gun as well. He yanked it away as though the surface was electrocuted - he didn't want to look like he was threatening Poncho.

"Yesterday was quite unusual," continued Poncho, oblivious to the Atlantis crew's reactions. "Many more Wraith than normal came, and they told us they were hunting down a rebellious human. That was why I was startled by your appearances, you see, because they told us the rebel wore a uniform quite like yours."

Rodney's hand had jumped back to the rarely-used gun, and Ronon had drawn his as well. Teyla and Carson, however, were still trying to salvage the situation. As much as they could with a village of Wraith worshippers.

"Ah, well, they must have made a mistake," Teyla said. "We have no knowledge of this rebel."

Of course they did - the "rebel" could be none other than Colonel John Sheppard. Rodney's heart pounded such a staccatto against his ribcage that he was surprised that Poncho couldn't hear. So the villagers _had _been involved...

"McKay, let's get out of here," hissed Ronon from behind Rodney, who jumped when he felt the big guy's breaths tickling the back of his neck. "If we stay any longer, I'm going to blast his head off."

Rodney found he didn't mind that idea.

"Do you know where the dart went?" Teyla asked Poncho. Poncho responded with another grotesque smile.

"Oh, yes. It was probably going to the Erai Mountains, that way," he said, jerking his thumb behind him. Rodney looked that direction and his eyes fell upon the dim purple shapes of a mountain range. "The Wraith conduct a good deal of business there, but of course, I would not know its nature because no human has ventured to the mountains. They are mysterious, those Erai Mountains. The realm of spirits, not mortals. No human has come back from the mountains alive."

"Look, I'm sure you believe all that and that's fine, but I'm telling you, there's no such thing as spirits," said Rodney irritably.

"Dr. McKay." Teyla shot him a warning glance. Rodney threw his hands into the air.

"Okay, okay, but _still - "_

"No such thing as spirits?" cut in Poncho in surprised amusement. "But how can you say such a thing? They are real. I have seen them with my own eyes."

"I don't know if you know this or not, but the Wraith can project hallucinations, and that's what you're talking about when you say spirits," snapped Rodney. "So there," he finished with a little less maturity than he was usually prone to. Something about Poncho annoyed him in an unexplainable weay - maybe because the fat man never seemed to get angry. In fact, upon Rodney's words, he just laughed again, a good-natured chuckle.

"Spirits in the mountains? I don't care about spirits, but I'm sure those mountains are crawling with Wraith," Ronon said. "And I'll bet you more than anything that Sheppard's there."

Rodney, looked at the mountains. He could barely discern them against the horizon - all he saw was a purplish smudge - but distance didn't matter. The jumper would take them there in a matter of hours, and once there, they could rescue Sheppard and get out pronto. _I bet he's pissed at me, _thought Rodney, _but hey, if I rescue him, he'll have no choice but to forgive me! And then he'll be in _my _debt! Ha!_

A bit immature a wish, but he was relieved that this mission wouldn't be too hard. Unlike so many other times they'd had to rescue Sheppard or each other.

"Okay, let's go back and report this to Elizabeth," he said, turning around and tromping through the dirt again - as he did, he side-stepped a three-eyed cat. The rest of the team hung behind to bid farewells to Poncho, before following him all too enthusiastically. Ronon caught up to him within seconds.

Poncho watched with narrowed eyes as the "peaceful explorers" departed. When they vanished from his sight, he turned to his mustached assistant and said, so quietly that no one else could hear him, "They're from Atlantis. Report this to the Wraith immediately."

"Yes, Poncho," said the assistant, and he trotted in the direction of the secret Wraith base near the village. Little Neven, and the Wraith it served, would be on their guard when the "peaceful explorers" returned.

* * *

_Grrrowwwl..._

"Cut it out, seriously," admonished Sheppard, patting his belly. "You're starting to creep me out."

_Grrowwwwl...guuurgggle...rrrmmmblll..._

"Really, you can stop that now," Sheppard said. "Oh, what the hell, I'm _starved."_

Antoher meal had come his way, implying that another day had passed. It, too, lay uneaten in the corner of his cell. So far, the drones that periodically checked on him hadn't noticed that Sheppard wasn't eating, but _Sheppard _certainly knew. His stomach knew, and now it was putting forth a cacophony of whinging as it demanded him to put some food, any, in it. To say nothing of his parched throat.

_Grrrmbl..._

"Another piece wouldn't hurt," he told himself, fishing inside his pocket for a Powerbar ration. _Don't be dumb! _his rational mind screamed. _That's the only food you're getting!_

"Yeah, I should bust out soon," he said with a heavy sigh. Once more, he stared morosely at the food - apparently, the young Wraith had not succeeded in persuading his superiors to stop drugging Sheppard's food, because today's water cup was also caked with white powder. Well, he'd rather be hungry and thirsty than drugged.

_Yeah, right, _he told himself angrily. _Just a little bit wouldn't hurt, right? Just a bit...just one bite..._

He was in the process of grabbing the bowl and taking a slurp of its contents when a voice called his name. "Colonel Sheppard!"

"Ah - _damn!" _Sheppard jerked in surprise and the bowl sloshed its foul contents onto the front of his jacket. He swore and tried to wipe it off but it just smeared all over his hands.

"I'm sorry," said the voice, which Sheppard recognized in an instant - no other Wraith spoke so softly. "Did I startle you?"

"Like hell_," _said Sheppard with a discontent grumble. He looked up to face the Wraith, who was staring through the bars with those wide, bright eyes. Per usual. This time, however, he held a small burlap-wrapped package and some distended leathery _thing _that looked like it had once been a stomach.

"I didn't mean to," the Wraith said, blinking once. Sheppard suddenly felt like a fool sitting here slathered with - whatever that stuff was. He entertained the notion of asking the Wraith for a change of clothes, but decided against it.

"Well, yeah, didn't know you'd come back," Sheppard said. "So, what brings you here again? Gonna 'study' me some more?"

"It's...well...I have something for you," said the Wraith, first pushing the burlap package through the bars and then the distended leathery thing. They were both a tight fit, but they managed to squeeze through and landed on the squishy floor with surprisingly heavy thuds, given their size. Sheppard leaned forward to take the package first, frowning - it felt bumpy, as if it held a multitude of tiny balls. He was a little wary to touch the leathery thing.

Presents from a Wraith? "What are these things?" he asked, worried that they might hide bombs or poisons.

"It's...as you've probably noticed already, I was unable to convince my superiors to stop drugging your food and water," the young Wraith began, hedging.

"Yeah, I noticed," said Sheppard, as his stomach gave a particularly loud grumble.

"So I decided...I got some provisions for you," said the Wraith. His expression was once again unfathomable, though it held an uncomfortable edge. He seemed to be waiting for Sheppard to open the presents.

So Sheppard did so, unwrapping the burlap package first. It held a sizable collection of small, perfectly spherical greenish-purple nuts. He picked up one of them, which was rolling across the squishy floor, between his thumb and forefinger

"I can eat this?" he said.

The Wraith nodded. "It's a kind of nut that grows on trees on this region. High in protein content. The humans in this region use them for a variety of purposes. It should help you regain your energy."

"And what's this?" he said, pointing at the leathery stomach thing. He hoped that the Wraith wasn't expecting him to _eat _that. How much could a Wraith know about human diets, anyhow?

"A water skin," the Wraith said. "Also something the humans here use. I gathered the water from a nearby stream...don't worry, it's been purified twice."

"Wow...well...uh..." Sheppard was startled to find himself at a complete loss for words. But he could think of no witty response for the Wraith's kindness. That was right - kindness. The thought astonished him; he _had_ worked together with a Wraith before but only because there was no other way they could escape from that bastard Kolya. He'd certainly never thought that Wraith were capable of unreciprocated altruism. But this Wraith had gone out of his way to collect food and water for Sheppard, completely unbidden, without expecting anything in return. It was so completely new, so alien, to Sheppard, that he couldn't denigrate it with a wry offhand command.

So he responded as he would to a human - the polite and proper way. "Thank you."

Sensing that the Wraith would not leave until Sheppard started nourishing himself, he picked up the water skin - it was heavy and its contents sloshed around quite a bit. The sound heartened Sheppard. He found a cork-like plug recessed into the leather and unpopped it, before bringing it to his lips and taking a deep draught.

Water, it was really water. Surprisingly icy, it washed over his senses like a flood and left behind a razor-sharp awareness. It was hardly the best water he'd had, certainly nothing compared to Atlantis' Evian - the cool liquid had a bitter tang and a definite jerky-like flavor, as if someone had soaked Slim Jims in it for hours. Then again, it had been stewing inside a skin.

He put it down, wiped his mouth, and offered the Wraith a grin. "Not bad," he said, and his voice was much less hoarse than it had been before.

"It was...well, I thought...it was the least I could do," the Wraith said in a mumble, averting his luminescent eyes from Sheppard to stare at the floor. Sheppard rested his head against the wall and popped a nut into his mouth. It was crunchy and salty yet somewhat sweet, and best of all, not drugged..

"You...you're really different from the other Wraith, aren't you?" he said, after he'd swallowed. "You are." The Wraith looked up, blinking in surprise.

"You told me that I was different from all the other humans you've met," he continued. "Well, in the same way, you're not at all the other Wraith I've ever met. You're not evil or crazy, you're trying to keep me alive, I mean...I can't imagine any other Wraith doing what you just did for me. So I've just got to ask - you know my name, so, what's yours?"

He didn't know what he was hoping to gain by asking for the Wraith's name. No other Wraith he'd met had ever divulged a name, but Sheppard felt this time would be different. He really wanted to know - it was getting tiring to refer to the Wraith as simply "Wraith," and it would be disrespectful to slap a silly name like Bob or Steve or Later on him when he had already helped Sheppard so much.

Confusion shone in the Wraith's wide eyes. "Name? What do you mean?"

A sinking sensation dragged down Sheppard's stomach, and it wasn't hunger. "Name...you know, how I'm called John Sheppard. Or do you folks not have names?"

"Ah...well. Yes. You humans need names because you don't have the network," said the Wraith.

"Network?" It was Sheppard's turn to look confused.

"We Wraith are connected by a telepathic network, you must know this. That's why we don't need what you call 'names,'" the Wraith explained.

"So? What does this network have to do with names?" Sheppard wasn't seeing the connection.

"We don't need names to communicate or distinguish between individuals," the Wraith said. "Each of us has our own unique telepathic signature, which we use to identify each other in the network. You humans wouldn't understand because you're unable to access it."

"So...the point is, you don't have names," said Sheppard.

"That's basically it," said the Wraith. He smiled a little, revealing his pointed teeth, but something about the smile was different from a Wraith's typical smirk. Shyer...more gentle. It was strange to think of a Wraith as gentle, but, Sheppard thought as he gazed upon this Wraith, at the same time it was stranger to think of _this _Wraith as threatening. The smile fit him well.

Well, this was awkward. Sheppard wanted something to call the Wraith that was more convenient than just "Wraith." "Well, then...is it okay if I give you a name? Since, you know, it's kinda rude to just say 'you' all the time."

The Wraith blinked again. "Give me...a name?"

Sheppard nodded, but hastily said, "It's okay if you don't want me to, I was just thinking..."

"No, I don't mind," the Wraith said. "What would you like to call me?"

Sheppard leaned back against the squishy wall and examined the young Wraith for a some time, running names through his mind and trying to decide if they were appropriate. It couldn't be something silly like "Steve" or "Bob" - that'd be just insulting - and certainly nothing like "Later" (if that was the case, Sheppard would probably end up calling this Wraith "Blinko" or something along those lines). But he didn't want to pick anything overly complicated and pretentious like "Alexander" or "Bartholomew" or whatnot. Maybe "Casper," after the friendly ghost? No, that was insulting in its own way, and this Wraith didn't like anything like a Casper.

But he _did _look like a...

"How about..." Sheppard stopped to ponder his choice, and then voiced it. "How about 'Keith?' How does that sound?"

The Wraith was silent, but then that strangely beautiful smile broke over his face and he said, "'Keith.' I like that."

"Keith it is," said Sheppard, and he smiled back at the Wraith - at Keith.

"I must go now," said Keith apropos of nothing, surprising Sheppard. It shouldn't have. As bizarrely as Keith behaved, he was still a Wraith and as such didn't have a clue how to carry out an actual conversation. Although Keith had proved a much better conversationalist than most of his kind.

"That's fine," said Sheppard, nodding gravely. "Go forth, young man, go forth."

"I'll be back soon, I promise that," said Keith as he began walking away from the cell. "Your clothes are stained," he observed, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

Sheppard stared at his gunk-soaked uniform and sighed. "Yeah, well, what can you do about it?

"If...if you desire a clean change of clothes, I could get some for you," Keith said. Sheppard was surprised again, but the grin that broke out across his face was genuine.

"I'd appreciate that," he said. The gunk, which was starting to dry, was emitting a foul odor. Just what the hell was it? Sheppard again wondered if he even wanted to know. "Least you could do, right?"

Keith stopped mid-step, his skinny shoulders stiffening, but then he relaxed with a little sound that might have been a laugh. "Yes, it's the least I could do."

Sheppard closed his eyes and nodded contently. When he opened his eyes again, Keith was gone. He didn't mind, because he knew that Keith would return. Maybe this alliance wasn't such a bad thing after all...and already he was hoping it would last.

* * *

The most major things I changed were Poncho's name (he was "Pancho" before...yeah, not really a big change) and a few events in Keith and John's second conversation. It seems I've also edited the tone of the team scenes to be more snarky and sardonic. I don't know what that says about me.

Please do review.


	3. Purpose

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Three: Purpose_

Not much about this chapter has been changed, actually. Mostly it's all prose clean-ups. I think I was marathoning "Alejandro" by Lady Gaga (an okay song with a great video, I'd say) while editing this, but I don't how much that influenced its contents.

* * *

"So, the people there are Wraith worshippers?" said Dr. Weir, linking her fingers together as she paced up and down the meeting room just as Dr. McKay had done that morning. Said Dr. Rodney McKay nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, they're Wraith worshippers," he said, "but thanks to them, we know now where the Wraith are holding Sheppard."

"Are you certain?"said Weir, making no effort to hide her doubt. "The village leader didn't explicitly say that those mountains were a Wraith base, did he? "

"I know, I know, I _know," _said Rodney impatiently, "but given everything he said, it's pretty damn obvious, don't you think? Spirits live there? Those are Wraith hallucinations. Check. No human has ever come out alive? That's 'cause the Wraith feed on them! Check. _The dart was flying straight for those mountains? _That's a big - fat - check! Sheppard is being held at those mountains, no questions asked, let's go!"

With his last outburst, he leapt to his feet as if he intended to dash to the gate room that instant. The rest of the team regaled him with blank stares.

"What?" he said, frowning at them. "Aren't we going?"

"Sit down, Rodney," said Weir, though she was trying hard not to smile. Everyone was used to Rodney being an egoistical coward - this new heroic personality was an amusing change. Rodney obviously blamed himself quite badly for Sheppard's capture, if it had changed him so much...though he'd probably return to his old self once they had rescued Sheppard.

Which made it all the more imperative at the Atlantis crew mount the rescue soon.

Rodney flopped into his seat, looking dejected. Weir spoke again. "Like I said, we can't afford to act so rashly. Do we know _anything _about this hypothetical base in the mountains? How large it is? Can we take down its defenses?"

"That's why we have to take a cloaked jumper for recon, and that's what I'm proposing right now. Come on, Elizabeth, what could go wrong?" said Rodney. "If there's nothing there then, well, there's nothing there. If it is a huge base chock full of guards, we'll be cloaked so we won't be in any danger."

"McKay's right," growled Ronon. "The sooner we rescue Sheppard, the better."

"Who knows what the Wraith are doing to John?" Teyla said, her forehead creasing in worry.

"If we wait too long, he might even...well...you know," said Carson, trailing off.

"Sheppard won't die," said Rodney fiercely. "That is, he won't die if we get there ASAP. So, what do you say, Elizabeth? Let's grab a jumper and go!"

Weir sighed. "I see your point, Rodney. Take a jumper to those mountains, but be quick - and don't try to rescue him on your own if there is a Wraith base there. This mission will solely be for reconnaissance purposes, understood?"

"'Course," said Ronon, but then added hopefully, "but if we do see any Wraith, can we kill a few?"

"Don't do anything to alert them to your presence," Weir said, though she sympathized with Ronon. "And if they do notice you, don't try to engage them - flee. One jumper isn't enough to take on a fully-armed Wraith base. I want everyone to come out alive."

"All right, we've been approved, no time to lose, let's go, let's go, chop chop!" Rodney leapt from his chair with a speed Weir didn't even know he possessed. He was soon followed by the others, all quivering in grim anticipation. Weir understood - anything to save Sheppard.

* * *

Keith came back sooner than Sheppard expected him to. The colonel had been sprawled upon the squishy cell floor, trying to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes his headache pounded harder and prevented his mind from drifting into sweet blankness. He tossed and turned and grumbled, wondering when Elizabeth would put a team together to save him, unless they'd already come and been killed...

_Don't be an idiot, _Sheppard told himself. _If they _are _dead, you'd think Later would at least have the decency to tell me, right? Even if it _is _just to gloat._

Sheppard was rescued from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps - the clanking thud of a drone. This was unusual. It was hard to determine the passage of time in this place, but he was certain that it hadn't been a day since his last meal.

"Colonel Sheppard." A now-familiar soft voice rose from the darkness. Sheppard cracked his eyes open and stared. Keith stood in front of the cell bars, and a drone stood a few feet behind.

"You may leave now," Keith said rather irritably to the drone. "I'll take care of the prisoner."

The drone watched him impassively through its masked face, before turning around and clanking off. Sheppard groaned and rubbed his aching head - why did they have to stomp so noisily? His headache had reached "full team of miners drilling inside his skull" intensity.

"Hey, you're back already?" Sheppard said, surprised by the speed of Keith's return. "Couldn't get enough of me, huh?"

Keith jerked as if he'd been hit and became immersed into the squishy floor. By all means, he seemed embarrassed.

"Sorry, did I offend you?" Sheppard said, though he couldn't see why.

"N-no...not at all, Colonel Sheppard," said Keith, shaking his head; his hair swung in a whirl of white around him. He still wasn't looking at Sheppard.

"What was with that drone?" Sheppard said. "Your bodyguard?"

Keith jerked his shoulder as if he was dispelling a fly. "Technically I'm not supposed to visit the prisons without a guard, but..."

"Sticking it to the man, huh?" Sheppard said with a chuckle.

"Excuse me?" Keith blinked.

"Nothing, never mind...human joke," Sheppard said, though it hadn't been much of a joke. "Hey, you got something for me?"

His eyes had landed on the square-shaped package tucked under Keith's left arm. It was wrapped in burlap, like the nuts earlier. Had Keith brought him more food? But Sheppard still had a good supply of nuts and water - he was taking care to ration his eating. At least his stomach wasn't making bizarre noises anymore.

"Yes," Keith said. "New clothes." He shoved the package through the bars, but had some trouble making it fit; Sheppard seized one end and dragged it through. It was surprisingly light for its size. When he prised it open, he saw that it indeed contained clothes - a faded grayish tunics and matching pants.

"Thanks," said Sheppard, relieved that he wouldn't have to wear his food-stained uniform anymore. The front had gotten all crusty and stiff and it was stinking something horrible. Not that he was going to change in front of Keith! He'd never take his clothes off in front of a Wraith, and a Wraith with a stare as unrelenting as Keith's was even worse.

"It isn't much...I took it from another prisoner," Keith said,, looking as if he expected Sheppard to disapprove. "He had just been...ah..._disposed _of...this morning."

Sheppard caught on instantly. "You mean you fed on him." He glanced at the clothes again, this time with disgust. _These came from a dead man._

"We must feed to survive," Keith said with no emotion.

"Yeah, and _we're _trying to survive, too," said Sheppard. "And we don't go around culling _your _kind."

"I know that...but...you wouldn't understand," Keith said. "Our hunger is...unbearable."

"Hey, I think I'd understand, since I was damn starving these past few days," said Sheppard. "Oh, yeah, speaking about that, thanks for the food and water yesterday."

Keith fixed Sheppard with one unblinking eye, his other covered by his copious hair. "We detest hunger. Only humans can sate our hunger. Logically, we use humans as our food source. It's simply how things are."

"But hey, I thought you'd actually be kind of sympathetic to humans, since you study us," Sheppard said, massaging his aching temples. Damn, his headache had started again. "You said you were interested in our culture."

"I may be interested...but...I cannot change what I am," said Keith, opening his hands and staring down at them - no, at his feeding organs. When he spoke, he sounded almost bitter_. _"I am Wraith. I must feed on humans to survive."

As Keith speak, a bizarre realization dawned over Sheppard. He tried not to voice it - it was _too _far out - but it escaped his lips anyhow. "Hey...wait a second...you don't _like _feeding on humans, do you?"

_No way, you must be hearing things wrong. What kind of Wraith doesn't?_

But to Sheppard's astonishment, Keith jerked his head in a nod. "You're sharp, Colonel. And you're correct. There is nothing that I hate more."

By this point, Sheppard felt light-headed. Perhaps he was delusional. Perhaps the drugs were inadvertantly beginning to affect him. He'd thought that Keith was an unusual Wraith, and now he knew for certain.

"Then why don't you stop?" he said.

Keith laughed - a harsh, mirthless chuckle. "Can you will yourself to stop breathing?"

"Well, no," Sheppard said.

"Precisely," said Keith, folding his arms and glaring at Sheppard, who already regretted asking such a stupid question. _Way to go, genius, _he told himself, and for some reason he found himself thinking about Rodney's favorite "I'm With Genius" shirt. Before he could stop himself, he unleashed a tiny chuckle.

"You think that's _funny?" _Keith snarled, anger flashing in his eyes. He had never looked more like a Wraith. "You think it's amusing that I can't control my basest nature, do you?"

"Oh, no, oh no," said Sheppard, realizing that Keith must have perceived the chuckle as directed towards _him. _"I swear - it had nothing to do with you. I was thinking about my friend."

Keith looked no less angry than he had been before. "I'm sure you were," he said.

"I swear I was," said Sheppard as his head pulsed in agony. "Dr. Rodney McKay. You should meet him. He's really a riot."

_And he's the reason I'm in this place...argh, he's your _friend, _damn it, John! What was I supposed to do, let the Wraith kill him? No way, friends help each other and we don't leave our people behind!_

"We know about Dr. McKay," Keith said shortly. The feralness of his anger seemed to have passed, and now he came across as more sulky than anything. Strange how difficult it was to think of him as a Wraith.

"I'm sure you do," Sheppard said. "Like I said, I'm sorry I laughed. I wasn't laughing at you, I swear. I guess...but it _is _kind of odd, isn't it? A Wraith that doesn't like feeding."

"I know I'm probably alone," said Keith, and to Sheppard's relief, he sounded a little calmer. "And I do my best to hide my sentiments...but...even so, I can't stand it. I can't stand to look in their eyes when I kill them. I'm weak like that."

"Nothing wrong with that," said Sheppard distantly, but most of him was focused on the agony throbbing inside his cranium. He groaned and massaged his temples with his fists, but that did nothing to abate the pain slicing through the soft gray matter of his brain. Damn, why had his headache started again? He'd thought that it had gotten better...

"Colonel Sheppard?" Keith's voice acquired a concerned tinge. "You seem to be in pain. Are you all right?"

"I _will _be, once this goddamn headache stops," groaned Sheppard, sinking against the squishy wall. "Oh...argh...you don't happen to have any aspirin, do you?"

"Any what?" Keith said. Sheppard groaned again.

"Aww, forget it..." Something had happened..something more than just him getting stunned...

"Colonel Sheppard," Keith kept repeating like a broken record. "Colonel Sheppard, what's wrong?" Oh, if only he'd just shut up...Sheppard was on the the verge of remembering...why, what had happened, why he had been injured on his head...

* * *

_The stunner fired but instincts took over and Sheppard hurled himself out of the way. He hit the forest floor hard. In only a few seconds he'd picked himself up and fired insanely, and the drone who had pressed the stunner to his head crumpled._

_"Guys? Hey, guys, where'd you all go?" he demanded._

_"We're right here, John," called Teyla's familiar voice, and Teyla and Carson came stumbling his way, Rodney's arms slung over their shoulders. Rodney was gibbering unintelligibly._

_"Okay, I'll be there," said Sheppard, passing the two unconscious Wraith who'd tried to feed on Rodney before Ronon's stunner had made short work of them..._

_Well, Sheppard _thought _that Ronon's stunner had made short work of them._

_Because of that, he did a very foolish thing - he delivered a whopping kick to the goateed Wraith's side. Simply being stunned did not seem a sufficient punishment for trying to kill Rodney._

_A blink later, Sheppard found himself face down in the earth, and then the goateed Wraith picked him up like a sack of potatoes and tossed him aside. Sheppard slammed against a tree, the back of his head cracking sickeningly against the rough bark. He gasped as a wet heat spread across the impacted area - blood._

_Teyla was shouting John's name and firing upon the Wraith, who barely seeemed to feel the shots. Ronon charged through the trees, roaring. But the other Wraith had woken up too and he leapt in Ronon's way and engaged him in combat, while the goateed Wraith yanked Sheppard off the tree and dragged him roughly over the ground. Oh his head throbbed and stars spun in his vision, and he felt sick and he couldn't see and he couldn't even hear Rodney's shrieks anymore, heard nothing but the thud of his head against the ground and the crunching of the leaves beneath his captor's boots..._

_"This is the one? Colonel John Sheppard?" said the goateed Wraith._

_Another Wraith voice curtly replied, "Yes. The one with the Ancient gene."_

_Sheppard's head swam. A beam of white harsh light swept in his direction - he realized too late what it was, but by then he was already aboard the Wraith dart, and his team was long gone._

_He passed out soon afterwards._

* * *

"The Ancient gene...that's right..." Sheppard mumbled to himself. "They want me because of the Ancient gene...but why?"

"Colonel?" Keith said, his voice soft with concern. Sheppard blinked, noticing the young Wraith again.

"Argh...nothing...only..._ohhh, _shit." Horror of horrors, a veritable army of drones was marching his way. Each heavy thud of their footfalls lacerated his brain. He wouldn't be surprised if his head chose to split in half that moment.

And then Later was standing in front of the bars, his hands behind his back, flanked by a consort of faceless drones. Keith stood to the side, looking nervous and out of place.

"'Bout time." Sheppard tried to smile, but it came out more of a pained grimace.

When Later spoke, it wasn't to him but Keith. "You may go now." Keith threw Sheppard an unreadable glance before dashing down the hall. Sheppard watched him go, a little regretful - he must preferred Keith's company to Later's. Still, now that Later was here, maybe now he'd finally find out what the Wraith were planning with him.

Later's eyes flickered over the untouched food trays in the corner of the cell. "You have not been eating, Colonel Sheppard," he said.

"Yeah...I _would _if you stopped trying to drug me to sleep." Sheppard forced himself to banter with the Wraith even though that was the last thing he wanted. If only he could sleep... But he had to stay awake, had to preserve his mental faculties while dealing with Later. Just because Keith was kind and helpful didn't mean that the others weren't dangerous.

Later chuckled, but with any humor. "Ah, but Colonel Sheppard...we know that you are not a very good prisoner. It will be much harder for you to escape when you are sleeping, don't you agree?"

Sheppard scowled, though he had to concede Later had a very valid point. "Well, your little plan failed. I'm not eating a single bite of that slop until you stop drugging it."

"You will starve to death eventually, Colonel," Later said.

"Like hell if I don't know that," Sheppard snarled. To his relief, it seemed that Later didn't know that Keith had been secretly feeding Sheppard. Somehow, he doubted that the Wraith would be very pleased to find out that one of their kind was sneaking food to to the prisoner, and Sheppard did not like to imagine what they'd do to the young Wraith who had helped him out so much already.

"You will not remain so defiant for long..." The cell door opened and before Sheppard could register what was happening, two drones marched in and tugged him to his feet and dragged him into the hall. Sheppard tugged against them, but their grips were made of iron. The hauled him after Later, who power-walked down the hall so quickly that the drones had to break into a little jog to keep up with him, which the prisoner between their arms did not appreciate.

"Oh, so _now _you're going to tell me why you've been holding me in this hellhole? Sure took your sweet time!" Sheppard shouted at them, but of course they didn't reply. Eventually he fell into a sullen silence, and during that silence he darted glances around, trying to take in the layout of the place - but it looked like every other Wraith base he'd been to, dark and gloomy (and squishy), with cobwebby walls and winding corridors.

Their destination must be quite far from the prisons, because they had been walking for some time now. Sheppard occasionally tried to get to the drones or Later to talk, demanding, "Hey, where exactly are we _going?" _and "C'mon, you can't leave me in the dark" and so on, but none of the Wraith ever answered, though sometimes the drones shoved him forward. Vaguely, he sensed that they were moving up, even though there were no stairs. The floor seemed to have an incline.

Finally they rounded a corner and entered a room: a wide, circular chamber that still managed to seem dark and oppressive under the gloomy lighting - not to mention it was half-filled with Wraith. The Wraith congregated in a silent, dark-coated group on the far end of the chamber; among them, Sheppard made out Keith's small and slender figure. He offered Keith what he hoped was a casual smile, but was probably more of a grimace.

He couldn't look in Keith's direction for long because the drones turned him so that he was facing the center of the room. In it was an object made of bluish-white metal, which resembled a large DHD. Dominating its surface was an orb that pulsated with a ghostly blue light. Where the buttons would be on a DHD were a string of symbols which emanated from the orb in a spiral. Sheppard stared at the symbols and realized he recognized them: Ancient. But why would the Wraith have an Ancient device?

"Hey, what the hell is this?" he demanded of Later. For the first time, the goateed Wraith graced Sheppard with a reply.

"We retrieved it some time ago, but we did not have the means to activate it, Colonel Sheppard," he said, amusement evident in his deep voice.

"You didn't answer my question, you know," Sheppard said. The drones responded by pushing Sheppard forward so that he collided into the device. Sheppard winced and would have clutched his stomach had his arms not been restrained. If he'd hit it any harder, he'd have gotten bruised.

At the edge of his vision, Sheppard noticed Keith avert his eyes and fix his gaze on the floor. The other Wraith around him, however, watched with ill-disguised anticipation. Whatever was going to happen couldn't be good.

"Patience, Colonel Sheppard," said Later, pacing dramatically in front of the device, coat swirling around him. He was even smirking and stroking his goatee, of all things. "Though patience seems to be a faculty in which you are severely lacking."

"Yeah, you can't blame me," Sheppard said, remembering why he had named the Wraith Later in the first place. "So, what _is _this thing?" The pulsing blue of the device's central orb was quite mesmerizing - his eye was naturally drawn towards it, even though he tried to maintain focus on Later.

Later chuckled unpleasantly. If Sheppard had had a weapon he'd have blasted the smirking Wraith's head clean off, but if he'd had a weapon he wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

"Well? I'm quaking in anticipation here, I'm telling you." He settled for using the only weapon he had left - his wit. "C'mon, enough leaving me in the dark." _It's Ancient, definitely...so me sort of...some sort of Ancient...__weapon_..._maybe?_

A nasty suspicion struck Sheppard - it was enough to tear his gaze away from the central orb and whirl around to face Later. "This thing...this is an Ancient weapon, and you need someone with the Ancient gene to use it, don't you?"

Later stopped pacing and flashed Sheppard what could only be described as a shit-eating grin. "You are indeed correct, Colonel Sheppard. We have faced this sort of weapon before when our people battled the Ancients. Used properly, it can demolish an entire Hive...or an entire city."

Now Sheppard was certain of the Wraith's intents. "Oh, _no, _you don't."

"You're right," Later said, which was no comfort to Sheppard since he was probably going to say something worse. "We do not plan on destroying your city, Colonel Sheppard, not when your Stargate can access your home galaxy and all the ripe feeding grounds there...but having control over this weapon would easily enable us to defeat Atlantis once and for all, wouldn't you say?" He laughed again. Sheppard glared.

"I'm not doing it," he snapped.

"Ah, I thought you'd say that," said Later, not sounding perturbed.

"Then why bother capturing me?" Sheppard shot back. "Hell, Rodney or Carson would have done just as well, wouldn't they?"

"We know that you have a particularly strong version of the Ancient gene," Later said. "We are not asking much, Colonel Sheppard. Simply turn on the device for us, and you may return to your cell. It sound simple enough, doesn't it?"

"What's the catch?" Sheppard said.

Later's smirk tightened. "There is no catch."

"Yeah, there sure as hell _is!" _Sheppard backed off from the device only to bump into a drone, who pushed him forward. He caught himself before he slammed into the device; clinging to its edge, he looked up and locked eyes with Later. "You're insane if you think that I'll ever turn on my people. No matter what you do to me, I swear I - "

"Like I said, I thought you wouldn't be compliant," said Later, his eyes aglow with fiendish sadism - a sadism uglier than any Sheppard had seen from a Wraith before. "Bring him here."

"_Now _what?" Sheppard demanded when the drones grabbed him and hauled him away from the device, only to push him into his knees in front of Later. Dread tightened in a ball in the pit of Sheppard's stomach. There was no doubt about this so-called "catch" now. Though he knew it was futile, he bucked against the drones' grip and swore as Later bent over him, hand extended... Trying not to meet Later's feral gaze, he threw a glance towards the motionless congregation of Wraith on the other side of the room - no, at Keith. Keith, who stil lhad his eyes trained on the ground, his hair obscuring his face from Sheppard's scrutiny...

All thoughts of Keith were driven from Sheppard's mind when Later slammed his hand against Sheppard's chest. The colonel convulsed as a score of knives were driven into his heart and from there sliced through his entire body. Later was cackling, a low maniacal laugh; Sheppard groaned and gasped, his years were slipping away... He'd forgotten the pain of a feeding, but now it all came back. Everything. It was a nightmare that didn't end, a nightmare that was too real. Dizzying. A snarling Wraith sucking years off Sheppard's life through the vice on his chest, claws digging into his skin - his head lolled back, he shouted his pain to the entire world, but there was no sympathy because the only ones who could listen were Wraith as well...

And then he'd been released and the unbearable pressure on his chest was gone and he crumpled face-forward to the floor. He sucked in rattling breaths that couldn't fill his lungs. The Wraith around him were dispersing, stonily silent as ever. They were acting as if what they'd seen hadn't happened. The room swirled in a blur of dark colors around him - Sheppard knew that the feeding had not lasted long, had to have been less than ten seconds, but that was no comfort to his aching body and he knew he never wanted to experience such torture again...

His eyelids, heavy as lead, slid shut. Giving in to his weariness, his pain. But if he'd stayed awake for just a moment longer, he would saw the departing Keith stare over his shoulder at the collapsed colonel, his eyes luminous with concern - and guilt.

"Take him back to the cell," Later said dismissively. The drones picked up the unconscious Sheppard by the wrists and ankles and carried him out of the room.

* * *

Please do review.


	4. Despair

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Four: Despair_

This chapter, out of all of them, has been changed the most. I intensified the Sheppard/Keith angle, perhaps inadvertantly, but I like what resulted so I'm keeping it. All of the team scenes have been almost completely rewritten, mostly to reduce the hints of other pairings (aside from the one insinuation Zelenka makes) as well as reducing Zelenka's role. Not that I don't like him, but now that I've decided that the only "romantic" (as much as you can call it romantic) focus in this story will be the Sheppard/Keith relationship, I had to remove the little Sheppard/Rodney/Zelenka triangle playing out in the background. I'm satisfied with the result, because I never liked that angle in the first place and I pretty much abandoned it after the fifth chapter; this rewritten Rodney and the rewritten Radek I feel are a little more in character.

Timeline-wise, it should be mentioned that time passes differently on the world Sheppard is on - three days there are equivalent to one Lantean day. For Sheppard, it's been four days since he was captured. For Atlantis, it's early morning the day after his capture.

* * *

His universe was pain, had always been pain, and would always be pain.

His limbs, stiff and heavy as lead. His head, throbbing like it had its own pulse. His skin, burning from fever. And his heart, his heart wouldn't stop aching - a physical ache as if a calloused hand had cracked open his ribs and was squeezing his still-beating heart...

Thankfully, even in the deluge of pain, there was a tiny pinprick of relief. Someone had pressed a cold wet cloth to his forehead. Cold and wet...as it it'd been dipped in ice water. Water. He'd sure love some water...just a little bit...

"Ungh..." he groaned, trying to force words out. His voice sounded strange and distant, as if someone else was speaking.

"Colonel Sheppard," someone said. Someone with the most heavenly voice - soft and gently reassuring, it was the kind of voice he would long to hear when he was upon his deathbed. Nobody real could speak like that...it had to be an angel. Maybe comforting him before he died. Or maybe he was dreaming. If it was a dream, he hoped he didn't have to wake up

"Colonel Sheppard," repeated the voice, a little more firmly.. "There's no need to speak. You're injured."

"Argh..." Sheppard tried to speak again, but he could get only a pained grunt. Still, he _needed _water; his throat was parched and dry as sandpaper. _Water, just a little bit... _"Wahhh...aghhh...ahhh...taaa..."

Wryly, he remembered that he had been in this exact situation not too long ago. The pain he was drenched in now, however, made his sufferings back then seem inconsequential. He'd been worried about a pounding head? Well, not only was his head pounding, but his entire body coursed in agony, especially near his heart, and on top of all that, he had a fever_. _

"Would you like some water?" the voice said. Sheppard could have hugged his hallucination for being perceptive enough to understand his senseless rumblings. Soon his head was tilted back - gently - and the cold metal rim of a cup pressed against his lips. He gulped the icy water eagerly, ignoring the stabs of pain that shot through his head from the chill. Water had never tasted so good.

"Colonel, slow down a little bit," the voice said, though it sounded a little amused. "I'm glad you're finally awake...I thought you would sleep forever."

"Yeah...well...you...know...me..." grunted Sheppard, amazed that he was able to piece together words. The water really did make him feel better...

"They drugged the air," the voice explained, and Sheppard felt a slim, refreshingly cool hand brush the hair from his forehead. "The superiors. They shot sedatives through the vent system...the sedatives would have no affect on Wraith, but you slept for quite a long time."

_Huh? Wraith...what...? _Understanding began to dawn in Sheppard's sluggish brain. Part of him pushed against the tide of knowledge, crying out because he already knew who was in there with him. Not an angel, not a dream, not even a concerned human, but...

"Ngh...back off..." Sheppard reflexively shoved away from the hand that was still touching his forehead. Only a little earlier a similar hand had clamped against his chest and sucked away his life. _A Wraith was touching him! _The only reason he didn't get up and give the Wraith the good one-two it deserved was the pain that still rendered him immobile. His only recourse was to verbally order it away from him.

"Colonel?" said the voice, said Keith's voice, now suffused with fear and worry. "You shouldn't strain yourself - really - "

"Back off, don't touch me," Sheppard said. Each word was a blade of agony through his head, but he had to make his intentions clear. Cautiously he opened his eyes, blinking a few times to clear the fog of sleep from them - when his vision cleared, he saw that sure enough, a Wraith was leaning over him. Long-coated, white-haired, eyes wide and pale. A _Wraith. _A Wraith whose face was so close to his own that Sheppard could see his reflection in those brilliant eyes. Disgusted, he drew back.

"I won't hurt you, Colonel, I'm not going to hurt you, I'm trying to help," Keith stammered, leaning forward as he replaced the damp cloth that had slid off Sheppard's burning forehead. Sheppard surprised himself by lunging forward and grabbing the young Wraith by the thin wrists. He didn't even know he had the strength left to move - but it wasn't strength animating him. It was rage.

"Didn't...you...hear...me...?" Sheppard snarled, each word coming up as a bundle of burning needles. "I...said..._back...the...hell...OFF!"_

With that, he shoved Keith away from him and scrambled to the back of the cell. He glanced down and to his surprise found his shirt opened, exposing the injuries left behind from Later's feeding.

"Please, Colonel, you're not in your right mind," Keith stammered, picking himself up and taking a step towards Sheppard. Sheppard jerked his leg in a clumsy attempt to kick the Wraith. Unfortunately the kick didn't connect; Keith staggered back and didn't make another move, but longing was evident in his pale eyes. Sheppard glared resolutely back. After what had happened earlier, he would never let a Wraith touch him again. _Never._

"What the hell...what the hell do you mean_, _not in my right mind?" Sheppard shouted. "I _am _in my right mind. I'd definitely not be in my right mind if I let _you _come any closer! Back off, and stay away!"

"Colonel, please, I'm trying to help - "

"Well, has it dawned on you yet that I don't want any more help from your kind? _Well?"_

"I'm sorry - if you're angry at me - I couldn't stop it - he is my superior - I - I couldn't - _please_ - " Keith was babbling now, fear and misery and guilt and reproach flashing across those wide, wonderfully expressive eyes.

Despite himself, Sheppard's heart softened a little. He tried to hold on to the anger, telling himself that it a goddamned Wraith was in the cell with him, he was in danger, but one look at the stammering Keith made that thought shrivel and die. This Wraith wasn't just a Wraith. He was _Keith. _Keith had not hurt Sheppard. Later had.

Keith was different. He'd said he hated feeding on humans and Sheppard had no reason to doubt him. _He's already done enough for me...who said he _had _to come in and wake me up? Or nurse me back to health? _

Sheppard took a few deep breaths to steady himself and shook his head to clear it. "Hey, listen, Keith...no, I'm not angry at you, okay? It's just...just...be a little more careful. Don't touch me unless I ask for it, y'know."

Keith inhaled deeply and bowed his head. "Forgive me, Colonel Sheppard. I will never try to feed on you. I promise."

"I know...I _know..." _Sheppard grunted - and he was surprised that he those words were sincere. He drew himself to a sitting position but stopped halfway when a bolt of pain stabbed through his heart. For a moment he clutched his chest and breathed hard, swallowing down agony. "Damn...how many years did that goddamn leech suck from me, anyway?"

"It was a brief feeding. You have many years ahead of you," Keith said stiffly. Sheppard found he much preferred the young Wraith's voice when it was suffused with loving concern. _An angel's voice... _The thought made him cringe a little. Thinking of a Wraith as an angel, of all things.

When Sheppard didn't respond, Keith added, as curt as before, "You ought to change." He gestured to the clothes he had given Sheppard earlier, now tucked in the same corner in which Sheppard had been keeping his food - though the food had been cleared out. Sheppard frowned at Keith.

"Good idea,"he said, wincing at his grimy and torn uniform, "but not in front of you, okay? I have a little something called dignity." He rubbed his head with a hand that was more gray and lined than it had been.

"Ah...I understand, Colonel Sheppard," Keith said and turned away. Sheppard wondered if his impolite actions had offended Keith that badly, and had half a mind to apologize, before he found a small burlap-wrapped package dropped in his lap. He hastened to untie the twine holding it shut, and found several dry, dark brown biscuits.

"Hey, thanks," he said, but to no response. Sheppard shrugged (ignoring the pain that shot through his shoulders) and nibbled on the biscuit, though he didn't feel particularly hungry. His stomach, like the rest of his body, hurt. He wondered how much time had elapsed since Later had fed on him. Hours? Days? Weeks?

_Don't be an idiot, _he told himself. _If it's been weeks you'd think that Rodney and the rest would have saved me already!_

"So, how long have I been out?" he asked, wanting to break Keith's silence. Wraith by nature didn't enjoy talking much, but Keith's silence seemed almost sulky in nature. Sheppard had on occasion been treated to similar silences on Rodney's part.

Keith finally met Sheppard's gaze again, but his eyes were flat and expressionless. "You have been sleeping for a day. I would have come sooner but, I...I was busy. I gave you some medicine to counteract the sedative, and that is why you are awake."

He sounded as if he expected Sheppard to thank him, and Sheppard obliged. "Thanks, loads. I mean it."

For a moment, Keith fixed Sheppard with that disturbingly emotionless stare, but then his expression softened and he said, "Are you in pain, Colonel?"

"Oh, _finally _you ask," Sheppard groaned to the ceiling. "It isn't exactly a walk through the park, getting fed on by a Wraith!"

"Of course...I'm sorry," said Keith, shaking his head so that his hair flew in his face. He impatiently tucked his hair behind his ears, and Sheppard found himself fascinated by how human that motion was...

"But I wouldn't know, Colonel Sheppard," the young Wraith added, a little defensively.

"Yeah, I'm guessing you wouldn't," Sheppard said. "Oh, damn, really, I'd _love _a Tylenol..."

"I don't know...I have something for your pain." Keith lifted another cup that had been resting on the floor. "I don't know - I mean - ah - "

Sheppard realized that Keith wanted to get close, but that he was afraid that Sheppard would get angry again. A problem easily fixed. "Here, give me that," he said, reaching for the cup. When Keith looked back at Sheppard, his hair had already come loose so half his face was obscured - the eye that was visible shone with confusion. He held the cup out to Sheppard, and the colonel took it. Its sides were cold with condensation and it held a thick, greenish liquid.

"What the hell is this?" he said. Was this a ploy to drug him? The stuff smelled suspiciously sour, like the drug that had coated the prison's water cups...but Keith was trustworthy, wasn't he? There was no way those brilliant pale eyes could lie, not when they flashed every emotion and impulse that crossed the young Wraith's mind. Flashed for the world to see.

_Such eyes, _Sheppard thought, _are dangerous. _

"It's an infusion of an herb native to this planet that has myriad recuperative properties," Keith explained in the same tone that Rodney used to lecture. "Apparently it's quite bitter but - "

_Hack, gack. _"You could've told me sooner!" sputtered the colonel as he surfaced from the cup. "Quite bitter," what a load. This was bitterness unleaded, a dose of pure, unadulerated quinine. But even though he'd taken only a small sip, his headache had abated just a tad and his body felt a little less stiff and sore.

Keith looked ready to apologize again, but by now Sheppard was tired of the Wraith's constant apologies.. "It's fine, I was just surprised," he said. As if to prove his point, he winced and downed the cup's entire contents. _Think of Atlantis, _he told himself, _think of Elizabeth and Rodney and all them, searching high and low for you... _It distracted him - a little - from the bitter snake coiling down his throat.

"How are you feeling?" Keith said softly, venturing a few inches closer. Sheppard sprawled on the floor, marveling at how quickly his agony was fading. That stuff sure did work, even better than Tylenol - though its taste was the most vile thing he'd encountered in all the universe.

"I've felt worse," Sheppard said. "Ungh...but if he feeds on me again..."

"You should do what he tells you to do," said Keith, an urgent note slipping into his voice. "Why do you insist on defying?"

"What, you think I'm about to turn on my own people?" Sheppard shot back. Who cared what the Wraith did to him; he wasn't going to be the instrument of Atlantis' destruction. "And about that...why are you helping me so damn much?"

"If you don't want me to - " Keith began, sounding affronted. Sheppard sensed another round of sulking.

"No, no, _no, _thanks for the help, I feel great_, _I mean it, you've been a great help," Sheppard said. "Geting me clothes and food and medicine and everything...but _why? _I mean, it's not like you have a good reason to."

That question had gnawed at him since Keith had first given him food, and had only grown as Keith did more and more for him. He'd even taken the time to nurse Sheppard back to health, of all things. Even if Keith was a human Sheppard would be at a loss to explain his kindness. He seemed to have no ulterior motives - in fact, he had everything to lose if Later found out.

Keith said stolidly, "As I said before, you interest me, Colonel Sheppard."

"Yeah, but _interest _is hardly a reason to risk your ass helping me out," Sheppard said. "You know as well as I do that your superiors wouldn't exactly approve of you doing this."

Keith turned away - it struck Sheppard that the Wraith only did so when he was embarrassed. Like a human trying to hide a blush, except that Keith was a Wraith and couldn't blush. "I...well...I just...you are so different from the other humans...it would be a shame if you died..."

"I won't die," Sheppard said, and he meant it too. "And you people probably won't kill me either. They can feed on me, but they still need me to activate that Ancient weapon of theirs, don't they?"

"Still...you will suffer..." Keith said, still not meeting Sheppard's gaze. "I have seen enough...no, I've _fed _enough...to know that it is not a painless process.'

"You've got that medicine of yours, right? It's doing wonders for me, I'm telling you." Though it could do with a better taste. All the same, almost all his pain had faded - all that was left was the ache over his heart, which he knew would not subside. And there was nothing that could be done for his old and creaky body. He wondered how many years Later had stolen from him.

Keith made a small noise that Sheppard couldn't interpret. He took it as a cue to keep speaking. "Anyway, my people'll come for me."

"What...how can you say that?" Keith lifted his gaze from the floor to stare at Sheppard, his eyes wide but contemptuous at the same time. "Many of the other prisoners believed they were going to be rescued as well, but of course they were wrong. Why do you think you are any different?"

"Hey, first of all, we're not some little backwater village," Sheppard said. "We're _Atlantis. _We've got jumpers, we've got a military. And second, our people don't leave each other behind. That's how we work. They'll come for me. Just you wait."

Keith made the noise again, and it sounded more like a scoff this time. "If you say so, Colonel Sheppard. It has been four days since you were first captured. A rescue team from Atlantis has yet to appear."

_Four days..._Sheppard was somewhat satisified to finally know how long he had been rotting in this hole. But with that knowledge came a rising queasiness in his stomach. If that was true, and no one had come... No, he couldn't think that way. _They will come...just give them a little more time, maybe they don't know where I am...but they'll come. We don't leave our people behind!_

To Keith, Sheppard presented a wry smile and said, "Well, if they don't come, then I'll bust myself out before Later can feed on me again."

Keith blinked. "Later?" he echoed.

Too late, Sheppard realized that Keith didn't know his label for the goateed Wraith. Hell, no one except himself knew. "Oh, that...that's just what I called that one Wraith. You know, the guy who fed on me. Tall, goateed. Yeah."

"He is the leader of this facility and its chief scientist," Keith said. "My direct superior."

"Figures," Sheppard grunted, shifting to find a more comfortable position. "Yeah, well, that's what I called him. Like I called you Keith, except I didn't ask for his opinion. Not that I need it anyway, bet he'd like it, since he's always saying that kind of thing to me. _You will know later, Colonel Sheppard! You're so impatient, Colonel Sheppard!"_

For his own amusement, he mocked Later's deep voice and haughty tone. What he didn't expect was Keith bringing his hand to his face and laughing, just like an amused schoolgirl. His laugh wasn't a schoolgirl giggle, but a soft and tinkling sound, like wind chimes. An _angel's _laugh. Sheppard stared in silent astonishment at Keith, trying desperately to connect that celeste-like sound to the Wraith opposite him. A _Wraith. _If Wraith laughed it was an evil cackle or chuckle like Later's.

But since when had Keith been a typical Wraith?

The moment was over too soon, but when Keith gazed at Sheppard again his luminous eyes were now shimmering with amusement. It was the first time Sheppardhad seen Keith anywhere near happy. Somehow, the sight of Keith's cheer lifted Sheppard's spirits as well. "Ah. 'Later.' It is a very fitting name, Colonel. He is like that to me, too, though I would have to say he's less polite."

Sheppard uncertainly grinned back at Keith, though he didn't want to ruminate on what the Wraith equivalent of "less polite" was. "I try, you know."

Keith graced him with his smile, the smile that Sheppard had only seen once before. The colonel's heart tap-danced all the way to his throat and lodged there.

"Colonel Sheppard...take care of yourself. I hope you continue believing that you will be rescued, if it gives you strength. Here, you will need all the strength you can muster." Keith was still smiling when he exited the cell and the bars closed behind him before Sheppard could move. Sheppard stared blankly after where the Wraith had left, startled by his sudden disappearance.

"Hey..." he muttered, scratching his no longer aching head. "That was actually kind of a good-bye, wasn't it?"

* * *

"Carson - Carson - oh for the love of - ! Figures, when we need him, he goes missing!" Dr. Rodney McKay was yelling as he dashed through the wide hallways of Atlantis. Many passersby gave him odd looks, but most shrugged and looked away, assuming that their head scientist was having one of his periodic fits. It wasn't as if Rodney was shouting for _their _sake, anyway. He was shouting because it was easier for him to think aloud, even if he wasn't pondering a complex theoretical puzzle but their doctor's location. Somehow, after the team had retreated to assemble their gear, they'd lost Dr. Carson Beckett.

"What are you going on about?" said a familiar, annoyed, Czech-accented voice. Rodney groaned when Zelenka appeared at the other end of the hall.

"Look, it's nothing to do with you - " Rodney said impatiently, trying to shoulder his way past Zelenka.

"Does it have to do with the mission to rescue Colonel Sheppard?" said Zelenka. Rodney stopped in his tracks.

How do you know about that?"

"How wouldn't I?" said Zelenka, sounding even more annoyed. Rodney was the only one who had the right to be annoyed, though - Zelenka hadn't answered his question!

"Listen, genius, it's not a rescue mission," Rodney snapped, marching on ahead. Much to his irritation, Zelenka decided to follow him. "It's _reconaissance, _okay? We're just supposed to scout out the place..."

"But if there's a chance that you can save Sheppard," Zelenka said, "then you'll take it, yes?"

"Well..." Rodney wondered if he should tell the Czech scientist. He wouldn't tell even Elizabeth, and it wasn't like he trusted Zelenka more than the city's leader, of all people. But he wouldn't tell Elizabeth because she was in a position to stop him, and Zelenka? Ha, he was technically below Rodney. "Well...uh, yeah, if there's a viable _chance, _of course...but who told you that?"

Zelenka blinked like an owl. "Nobody. It's easy to infer."

"_Easy?" _Rodney said nastily. He didn't like the implication that he was easy to read. Well...all right, maybe he _was, _but all the same, he didn't appreciate Zelenka rubbing it into his face.

"Of course," Zelenka said with another owl blink. "We all know how you get when it comes to Sheppard..."

"Hey, wait wait waitwaitwait_wait_aminnit," Rodney said, flapping his hands at Zelenka - stupid motion, made it seem like he wanted to start a catfight - but indignity was bubbling inside him, choking him. He didn't like the sound of Zelenka's words at all; no, not Zelenka's words but his "if you know what I mean" tone. "Wait, you are _not _saying what I think you are."

"I'm not saying anything, Rodney," Zelenka said. He started to walk away, thank everything.

"Good," Rodney said, "'cause the only reason, the _only _reason, I've gotten like this is because it's _my fault. _You got that? We good? Yeah, it's my fault that Sheppard got captured so I have to make it right. That's all there is to it, so why don't you go back to the lab and do whatever it is you do, clean up after your incompetent subordinates most likely - "

Zelenka arched an eyebrow and shrugged both shoulders. "Whatever you say, Rodney," in a tone that implied just the opposite.

Rodney was still burning in anger when he ran into Carson Beckett, on his way out of the men's room. They had a little argument on the spot about how long Carson had taken; Carson insisted that he needed to take care of all business before a mission, what if an accident happened? And Rodney insisted that while they were fighting life-sucking aliens, "accidents" should be the last thing on their minds, but Carson shot back that nature didn't change itself even during fights. It was a good-natured, silly argument, the kind that Rodney was used to having every day with Sheppard.

When he thought about it that way his insides burned again. That idiot Zelenka and his idiotic insinuations. Rodney hadn't been lying when he'd said that the only reason he was so into this mission was because he owed it to Sheppard. That was the only reason, but it was a potent one - far more potent than whatever ridiculous motive Zelenka wanted to ascribe him. He did not want to spend the rest of his life wracked with guilt over causing his friend's death, and Sheppard would do the same for him.

That thought comforted him, but at the same time - he couldn't explain why - it made him angrier.

* * *

Dr. Rodney McKay was still burning in the remnants of that fathomless rage when he piloted the jumper through the forest of Poncho's planet. Much to his detriment, and to the team's.

The passengers cried out as the jumper took a particularly sharp turn. Carson even fell out of his seat, hitting the floor with a thud and rolling.

"Hey, watch it," shouted Ronon as Teyla helped a breathless Carson to his feet.

Rodney being Rodney, he had to protest being called onto the carpet, even when he deserved it. "Look - didn't you see that _tree_ - we were flying right at it! Anyway, I don't know a thing about flying these damn things, you should've gotten Sheppard if you wanted a jumper expert - "

"But we can't," Ronon growled. "Sheppard's not here."

"_Thank _you for stating the obvious," Rodney said, but he had to turn away from the argument if he wanted the jumper to move in a straight line while avoiding the trees that looked like collosuses before the little craft. "Carson, how much longer until we get there?"

"Um, we should be over the mountains any minute now," said Carson in the copilot's seat. He kept rubbing his hands together and his shoulders were shaking. Rodney grudgingly had to admit that yes, it was rather cold, but then again, they were steadily gaining cold was only natural.

"There they are," said Teyla. And sure enough, there they _were. _One moment, Rodney had been steering the jumper through a thicket of green-robed branches; the next, he was surrounded by icy sky and in front of him loomed snow-capped mountains that obscured half the sky.

"Wow...they're...they're big," Rodney squeaked. As soon as he'd spoken he cursed himself for his idiotic statement. _Of course they're big_, _wise guy! What do you expect, they're mountains!_

"The Wraith have a base _there?" _Ronon said. "It'll take us years to find it."

Rodney stared at the mountains that extended as far as the eye could see, and had to wholeheartedly agree.

"Well, it doesn't matter how long it takes us, we'd better start searching right now," he said as firmly as he could, hoping that the rest of the team couldn't hear the doubt in his voice. Knowing him and knowing them, they did. "No time to lose, right?"

"You will not have to, Rodney," said Teyla suddenly. "I sense Wraith..._many _Wraith...and very near."

"Yes - !" cried Carson, almost leaping out of his chair. "Yes - I see it - look - "

"Yes, thank you for your _astute _observation, Captain Obvious," said Rodney, miffed, but his eyes followed Carson's point and landed on a single dart whirring through the air. It had taken off from a low, dome-shoped, and unmistakably Wraith building nestled on the edge of a rocky outcrop. Several other darts hovered in the air around the building.

Jackpot.

"Hurry up and take us in, McKay," growled Ronon, and Rodney didn't need to turn around to see that Ronon had drawn his trustworthy gun. Normally, Rodney would have shouted at Ronon for ordering him around, but right now he didn't care - because he completely agreed. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the jumper into a descent, but it plummeted a little faster than he expected. He was jolted violently forward along with the other passengers.

"_Ouch! _Oh, my nose, my nose," groaned Carson, who had bumped his nose on the console when they dove. He was clutching his face and tears were brimming in his eyes.

"McKay!" roared Ronon, and Rodney yelled back, "Look, I _told _you I'm no expert - "

"Rodney, just concentrate on bringing us in," Teyla said calmly. Rodney nodded gravely and even managed a little salute.

"Roger that!" He took great pains to steer the cloaked jumper to a safe landing on the ledge.

"The guards...they're humans," noted Carson.

Rodney noticed this as well. The only guards at the complex were three burly men in padded tunics, pacing and scowling and pausing to level their Wraith stunners at invisible enemies in the distance. The inside of the base was probably crawling with drones, but the fact that the only living things in sight were humans relieved Rodney more than he'd admit. At least they wouldn't have to fight through Wraith to get inside. All they had to do was disable these three humans, and in they were. It almost seemed too good to be true.

"I suppose...well, the people here _are _Wraith worshippers," said Teyla, hoisting her gun on her shoulders and giving the men a distrustful look. Ronon scowled nastily.

"Bastard sellouts," he growled.

"Hey, don't kill them," Rodney warned, stepping up to the door of the jumper. "Just get them to tell us where Sheppard is and then we'll knock 'em out. There's only three of them, so getting in should be easy. I hope."

_Well, when you live in the goddamn Pegasus Galaxy, _nothing _is easy! I mean, look at how Sheppard got captured. We were just trying to find a village!_

"Getting Sheppard, and getting out, will be difficult," pointed out Teyla.

"You people are just _channeling _Captain Obvious today, aren't you?" Rodney said. "All right, team, we ready? Let's go, and let's all try to come back alive, okay? And hopefully we'll have a pleasant surprise for Elizabeth when we return to Atlantis."

Of course, they had absolutely no permission to do this, but that didn't matter at this stage. The base looked pretty small anyway. A little _too _small, a nagging part of Rodney's brain told him...did they really have a prison in there? But he quickly shut these thoughts out.

Carson, however, voiced his nagging doubts. "Rodney, are you certain? It does look on the small side, don't you think? How could they have a prison inside _that?"_

"Maybe it's underground," Rodney said, though the stone of the mountain was dark and stubbornly solid. But hey, they were Wraith, a little bedrock wouldn't bother them...right?

"You two, hang back and guard the jumper," Ronon said to Rodney and Carson as they tromped off the jumper and hid behind some conveniently placed boulders. "We'll deal with these lunks."

With that, he and Teyla slipped out of their hiding space and, taking care to keep to the shadows, slipped behind one of the guards and knocked him out with a sharp blow to the head. He crumpled like an empty sack.

"Whoo, it's kind of cold here, isn't it?" whispered Rodney to Carson, just because he wanted something to say. And it _was _cold - the mountain air sliced like frigid knives through the thin material of his jacket. He found himself wishing for a padded tunic like the ones the guards had.

Carson opened his mouth to comment - the look on his face was a mix of puzzled and derisive - but Teyla and Ronon were back in a blink, dragging between them a guard who had not been completely knocked out but was too winded to struggle. Ronon snatched the guard by the front of his tunic and slammed him against the boulder. The others watched with ill-hidden anticipation.

"Where are your prisoners?" Ronon growled. The guard stared at Ronon, eyes bulging, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"P...prisoners?" he stammered. Rodney's heart sank. This guard didn't seem very bright.

"Yeah, your prisoners. Your _masters _are hiding a prison inside there, aren't they?" Ronon snarled, grinding the guard into the boulder. The guard gasped and shook his head, gibbering.

"Oh, no, I don't know about that, this isn't - this is just a stopover - " he blathered.

"A what?" Ronon hissed, leaning in close - the guard dissolved into incomprehensible sobs. But Rodney, his heart now resting in the bottom of his stomach, realized what the guard had meant.

"Oh God, that...that explains it. The size, the darts...oh, oh, oh _no_,oh...this is the absolute _worst!" _he groaned, flinging his hands in the air much as he had when he'd argued with Zelenka earlier. What a silly, trivial argument. None of his troubles had been for anything because - because -

"What do you mean?" Teyla said.

"I mean...this place, this place isn't really a base!" shouted Rodney, and was unable to prevent his voice from trailing off in a hysterical squeak. "It's like - it's just a place where they rest their darts and stuff, like, you know, like - "

"Like a rest stop," said Carson, eyebrows rising to meet his hair. Rodney nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, like a rest stop or gas station, something along those lines This isn't a base! Right? Am I right?" He turned to the guard, who nodded dumbly.

"So that means..." Teyla said.

"Sheppard's not here," Ronon finished in a feral growl. He punched the boulder before releasing the guard, who slid blubbering down to the ground. He tried to crawl away, but was stopped by a red blast from Ronon's gun. Not dead, but stunned.

"Come, we must report what we've found to Dr. Weir," Teyla said, turning and heading to the jumper. Ronon was quick behind her and Rodney and Carson walked more slowly. If Rodney had his way, he wouldn't have walked; he'd have simply stood there until moss started growing on his shoes. Dying inside from his idiocy, his mistake. He had the feeling that Carson was hanging back to give him company, which would have annoyed him in the best of situations, but now only amplified his numb hopelessness. Carson, after all, was the one who'd pointed out that the base was too small to hold a prison.

_Sheppard isn't here... _They had completely wasted about two hours of their time. How elated he'd felt when Poncho had spoken about the Erai Mountains - but the mountains were a dead end. A possible red herring, deliberately given by the Wraith worshippers, for all he knew. And now the team had been relegated back to square one. The longer they spent searching for the colonel, the more Sheppard was sure to suffer...

"Rodney, you all right?" Carson said, walking up to his side. "Listen, we'd best get going..."

"Right." Rodney forced his head into a nod and returned to the jumper at a plodding, mechanical pace. His mind ran through a million things Sheppard would have said had he been there, but the whole point was that he wasn't there.

And it was Rodney McKay's fault.

* * *

Please do review.


	5. Confession

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Five: Confession_

Most of the edits are prose cleanups, as well as a more thorough rewrite of the scene between Rodney and Zelenka. The Sheppard/Keith has been ramped up and the lead-up to Keith's confession, I feel, is more satisfactory.

It's day five for Sheppard, and later in the morning of the second day (the same day as in the last chapter) for Atlantis.

* * *

Poncho rubbed his beard and watched silently as the Wraith commander spoke to him. He was so tall that his head almost brushed the ceiling of Poncho's house, and since Poncho was village leader he had the biggest house. Poncho tried to focus on the Wraith's goateed face and his golden eyes, narrowed in anger, rather than on the guard tied and gagged to the chair behind him.

"It is those humans from Atlantis, of that we are certain," the Wraith snarled. He never ceased his impatient pacing. Poncho despised the Wraith's constant motion - it did nothing for his already jumpy nerves. Of course, he didn't voice his disapproval to the Wraith.

"Why did they not break in?" Poncho said, still rubbing his beard. "You said that all they did was knock out Gregar, Mikel, and Jolon before leaving."

"What they were searching for was not there, obviously," the Wraith said with a contemptuous smirk. "Now, as for your guards...their incompetency must be addressed."

"Oh, yes, I agree wholeheartedly," said Poncho. The guard turned towards him, a desperate plea in his eyes, and began to shake his head. Poncho intensified his efforts to ignore him.

"If their current record continues," said the Wraith, "we will have to replace them with...with our own."

Poncho responded with a deep belly laugh. He only laughed like that when he was nervous, and nervous he certainly was. "Oh, you wouldn't! You remember our agreement."

"Certainly," sneered the Wraith commander. "The guards of the Erai complex are to be drawn from your own villagers."

"Now, now, your people may be quite...slippery, if you don't mind me saying so," said Poncho, patting his enormous belly, "but from the very beginning, you have never reneged on any of your agreements. You wouldn't want to start now, would you?" He laughed again.

The Wraith did not reply in kind. His eyes narrowed and he fixed Poncho with a glower that quickly shut him up.. "All the same, they have proven themselves incompetent. Especially this one here..." He ended with a hiss and turned towards the bound guard, whose eyes grew to the size of saucers and pressed himself to the chair back.

"Oh...yes...Gregar," said Poncho, his hand upon his beard again. He had a shrewd idea what the Wraith was planning, and try as he might, he could come up with no better alternative. Or at least, one that would prevent him from meeting the same fate as Gregar. "Oh, yes. I will leave Gregar to you. Such incidents must never happen again."

"I am glad you see things our way," said the Wraith commander, while Gregar began to scream through the gag. "I do quite like the way you think. You are almost like Wraith yourself."

"Why, thank you," said Poncho, and he was still smiling as he left. It was too easy to ignore the screams and snarls issuing from behind him.

* * *

"Get up, Colonel! You will not leave until you operate the device, and operate it _correctly_," hissed Later, while Sheppard groaned into the squishy floor.

He'd gotten a mouthful of the squish when he had fallen. To his surprise, it didn't taste all bad. Kind of...sweet, actually. He had half a mind to continue chewing it; at least that way, it meant that he didn't have to get up again. His senses were a whirlwind of pain - being fed on twice in the space of a half hour was no walk in the park. If only he didn't have to move...but Later loomed above him, snarling harsh commanders, and Sheppard knew that more pain would come if he didnot follow the Wraith's instructions...

_How 'bout later? _thought the tiny fragment of him still able to think wry thoughts.

"I said, get up." Rough hands tightened around the back of Sheppard's shirt and he was pushed towards the device. He collided into it but his knees buckled and he sank to the floor. He clutched vainly at the weapon for support. Later hissed in disapproval behind him.

_Just do it, John...if you do this, you can go back to your cell, the pain will end...do it...c'mon...do it...what do you have to lose?_

No! a stronger voice screamed. I won't betray my people! They haven't betrayed me, so I won't betray them!

_Oh? How are you so certain about that? Have they betrayed you? Why haven't they come for you, then?_

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he told the voice, resting his head on the device's cool surface. It was quite comfortable and he found his headache receding a fraction. Not enough for the pain to stop hammering his skull, but enough for him to think more coherently than he had earlier.

"Activate the weapon, Colonel Sheppard," Later said. Sheppard groaned and hauled himself up, clinging to the edge of the device for leverage.. His vision was so blurry he could hardly see the little symbols.. Hell, how did it even work? Somehow, he thought he should know by instinct - that was how easy to operate most Ancient technology was in his hands - but when he swept his eyes over the device all he saw was a spiral of squiggles and the regular pulsing of the central orb...

_Press it, _a faint whisper said inside him - all that was left of his natural instinct. The voice that had chosen him as Atlantis' child. He couldn't see how that would hurt, so he placed his hands atop the orb and tried to push. But he couldn't. His arms were shaking so badly that he couldn't even summon the minimal amount of force required to press the goddamn orb.

_Do it...do it and they'll let you go..._

There was a blur of motion and pain and then Later was looming above him again, looming like a black-clad mountain, and he snapped, "Get up, Colonel Sheppard." Sheppard pulled himself off the squishy floor, wincing. It seemed that Later had just kicked him because his side was throbbing like someone had pressed a coal to it. Not as bad as heart, where he'd been fed on twice in quick succession... In a dull, stupid way, he felt that he was letting Keith down by having already ripped and stained the clothes that Keith had gotten him...

Sheppard tried to lift his head to look at Keith, who he knew was among the silent group of Wraith congregated across the room. Even that simple motion made his head lurch and his vision was so blurred that he couldn't tell any of the Wraith apart. When he craned his head over his neck, his eyes fell upon the cool blue of the orb...such a beautiful blue, just like the Lantean ocean he had left behind... He moved towards it, shuffling on his knees, and placed shaking hands over the orb again.

Later exhaled behind Sheppard. "Very good, Colonel."

Sheppard blocked out Later and focused only on working the device. He pressed down, as hard as his trembling arms would allow him. It was the right thing to do. There was a faint whirr and one by one the symbols were illuminated with a light as blue as that of the orb. As he blinked at them, he realized that he could read them now. His senses had acquired a razor alertness that he hadn't felt during the entirety of his stay in this nightmarish dark world.

The old clarity was back. He knew - just _knew, _somewhere deep in the marrow of his bones - which symbols to press to create the beam that could disable entire Hives at once...or an entire city ship. But he didn't. After all, Later had only ordered him to "activate" the device. Well, the damn thing was glowing. That was activated in his book.

"Very good, Colonel Sheppard," Later didn't say so much as gloat - which was a bit presumptuous of him, since it wasn't _his _efforts that had turned the thing on. "Continue."

_No, I don't want to, there's no point._ _I already activated it, you damn lunks...let me sleep..._

"Do you not hear, Colonel? I said, get up and activate the weapon. You need not do very much - burn a hole in the wall. Certainly you can do that, even in your current pathetic state?" Later's voice was loaded with contempt; normally Sheppard would have challenged him, but he felt too tired and old to do anything but slump to the floor and sleep. Sleep, and never wake up...

Sheppard was conscious of being dragged to his knees by two drones, who lifted his arms high above his head. Later came in close - lifted his hand - and Sheppard knew what was coming. Later would drain him of what little life he had left. _Well, let him, I'm not about to betray Atlantis..._

A familiar soft voice, edged with hysteria to put Rodney's constant histrionics to shame, burst from the congregation at the other side of the room:

"_Stop! _Can't you see - he's already suffered so much - "

With a snarl, Later whirled around and faced the source of the voice, as did Sheppard. Keith. Keith who shakily stepped out of the group to fix his terrified eyes upon Later. His hands were clenched into fists and his throat was convulsing like he wanted to throw up.

"You," was all Later said - but that simple word was suffused with a hatred that made the hairs on the back of Sheppard's neck stand up. Keith recoiled, but he did not back down.

"Please, stop. He has already activated the weapon. What - what more could you possibly want?"

"Stupid boy," Later said, taking a step towards Keith. "I thought you told me that you had seen the error of your ways. Yet here you are, standing up for a human once more. What can possibly teach you the truth?"

"The truth is - the truth is - " Keith stammered, glancing wildly around the room but trying to avoid looking at Sheppard. "The truth - Colonel Sheppard is suffering. That - that - that is the truth. You are hurting him."

"He is only a _human," _Later snarled.

"He suffers," repeated Keith, no less fearfully.

Later moved so fast he was a blur. Keith swayed before crumpling to the floor, clutching his face and spitting out blood. Later stood above the younger Wraith, his hand raised, his posture radiating fury.

"Normally your insolence would be rewarded by a trip to the Queen," he thundered, "but since you are just a foolish child, I will forgive you for now. Leave! Be warned that all of your further contact with Colonel Sheppard will be _closely _monitored. Now, get out of my sight! Skulk like the coward you are, you pathetic - "

Keith scampered out of the room before Later could finish, his hand clamped firmly to his face. Sheppard watched him go, regretful, yet with a strange, rising sensation in his stomach, like champagne bubbles...it took a second to identify it as _hope. _

Hope that was quickly dashed from him when Later strode back towards him, his eyes shining with gleerful sadism. "Now, Colonel Sheppard...where were we?"

* * *

Rodney wasn't aware that he had fallen asleep until someone prodded him between the shoulder blades and said, "Rodney! Wake up, wake up! I've been calling you for the past five minutes, for the love of..."

Rodney identified the voice when it descended into mumbled Czech. He bolted upright and lifted his head from his arms to glance around. His laptop sat before him, still turned on, but it was displaying the screensaver, and the cup of coffee beside the laptop was completely empty. Well, there was a mystery solved. It was ten in the morning and he shouldn't be asleep, but heck, who could blame him - he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night. No one on the whole team had.

"About time," Zelenka said, staring down at him.

"Oh, dammit," Rodney said with a surge of hatred that he didn't understand until he remembered how Zelenka had slandered him yesterday. He scowled and spun his chair, even though that made him nauseous. "What? What do you want?"

Zelenka stared at him, blinking. After a while, he said, "You look horrible."

"Well, thank _you _for the compliment," Rodney said. Wasn't Zelenka on a roll! He wondered if the Czech scientist was trying to get back at Rodney for every insult that Rodney had dealt him...but he'd thought Zelenka had a thicker skin than that. "Way to go, casting stones. Has someone bothered looking in the mirror recently?"

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that," Zelenka said quickly. "I mean - that is to say - you look like you haven't slept in ages."

"And I _haven't!" _Rodney didn't shout so much as roar. "What d'you expect, huh? I've been spending every waking hour trying to narrow down the last fifty address dialed in the DHD, and I have made _zero _headway! Every _single _damn address is to a Wraith planet! How the hell do we know exactly which one of those fifty planets Sheppard is at!"

"Oh, about that," said Zelenka. "That's what I wanted to tell you. Spent five minutes trying to wake you, well...anyhow. We - that is, my team and I - have managed to narrow it down to just ten." He held up the tablet that he had tucked under one arm. Rodney stared.

"What the - you could told me _sooner, _you know!" he shouted, snatching the tablet from Zelenka and slamming in the table with such force that it almost skidded across the room.

"Whoa - whoa - careful!" cried Zelenka, before muttering a stream of Czech.

Rodney kept his back turned to Zelenka so he could examine the tablet. It displayed the same list of addresses that had singled out on his computer as having confirmed Wraith bases - all forty-five of them. Some of the ones on the tablet were highlighted in red, and Zelenka pointed out the obvious, saying, "Those are the planets we think are the closest matches."

"Yes, I'm aware of that," said Rodney impatiently, scrolling through the list. "So you think Sheppard is at one of these planets?"

Zelenka nodded before turning around and walking away, which relieved Rodney more than he could say - he was glad that the Czech scientist wasn't going to spring talk about Sheppard upon him. "Get back to sleep, you probably need it..."

"Is there a crack in there about 'beauty sleep?'" Rodney said nastily.

More mumbled Czech, and then, "No, actually. I was going to say that you have been taking this harder than everyone else, and it's showing."

"Goddammit! I _have _been, because you know what?" Rodney yelled, running right up to Zelenka's face - Zelenka took a few astounded steps backwards and lifted his hands as if trying to shield himself from a blow. Rodney _was _mad enough to hit, if he thought about it. "_Because it's my damn fault! _All of it! We don't leave my people behind, I left Sheppard behind, all that jazz, okay? I know he'd do the same for me - hell, he'd probably do _more!"_

"I...see," Zelenka said, though he was still looking at Rodney as if he expected Rodney to hit him.

After a long, and somewhat awkward, silence in which the two scientists tried not to stare at each other, Zelenka finally spoke. "Also...I would like to say sorry."

"For what?" Rodney said, blinking. Damn...that desk was looking very inviting right now, he'd make a nice pillow with his arms and put his head down...no, better than the desk, his bed! Damn, he _was _tired. "Waking me up?"

"No...for what I said yesterday." Zelenka sounded quite uncomfortable - as he _ought _to, thought the tiny part of Rodney that was still indignant. Most of his anger had faded, crushed by a wave of head-spinning weariness.

"Look, it's okay, all right? Doesn't matter," Rodney said in a failed attempt to sound brisk. "All that matters now is finding him, wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course," Zelenka said.

"Good, then let's go," Rodney said. "To tell Elizabeth about this..." He tapped the tablet.

"And after that, you should get some sleep," Zelenka said, falling in step with Rodney as they headed towards Dr. Weir's office.

"Yeah, sure, sure, okay," Rodney said, trying to blow it off. Of course he couldn't, he was tired as all hell and Zelenka's suggestion sounded like the best thing since his first meeting with Carter. All the same, he thought that maybe he was a little too incongruously happy. It was something so stupid - a suggestion to take a nap - but it made something leap in Rodney's chest, and that thing, whatever it was, wouldn't dislodge. Nor did he particularly want it to.

* * *

Sheppard gazed at the squishy ceiling of his cell, or as much of it as he could see through his blurred vision. He was amazed that he was even alive; hadn't Kolya said that the body needed at least three hours to recover between feedings? Yet here he'd been fed on three times within thirty minues... Was he going to die?

_When I die, _he thought sleepily, _I'd like that angel to announce my arrival into the afterlife. The same angel that took care of me earlier._

Keith?

But Keith probably wouldn't be visiting him anytime soon, after what had happened earlier...

Sheppard's stomach churned in guilt. _I should thank him...I really should..._

He must have dozed off, because when he forced his eyes open again, Keith was standing in front of the bars. Not facing Sheppard, but arguing with two drones. "Listen - this is merely for my research - it is _not_ - oh - just go. I am fine on my own. Go. I won't stay long."

The drones stared at him, their faces inscrutable behind their masks, before turning heel and departing with the steady clanking of boots. Sheppard winced, but his head wasn't as tender as it had been before. What really hurt was his chest; he could barely draw a breath without pain stabbing through the bleeding, open wound that he didn't want to examine...

"Ungh...hi," he said, managing a weak smile. Keith returned the smile halfheartedly, but his eyes betrayed all of his guilt, pain, and misery. The churning in Sheppard's stomach grew worse, but it had nothing to do with hunger.

"Hey, come on in," Sheppard said. More like rasped; his vocal cords didn't seem to be working properly. "What's the matter?"

Keith remained standing where he was, not speaking, not moving.

"Come in," Sheppard repeated. "You _want _to, don't you?" It was getting easier to talk - still hurt, but at least he could string together coherent sentences.

"I...you...you don't...you don't hate me?" Keith sounded disbelieving yet hopeful at the same time. It was hard for Sheppard to tell, because his vision was still blurry and Keith's sheepdog bangs were obscuring his face.

"What? Why's _that?"_ Sheppard frowned, wondering if he was delusional. What reason could he have to hate this boy who'd already helped him so much? This boy who was very possibly the only reason he was still alive.

"I couldn't...I couldn't stop him...I _tried, _but I couldn't...I'm weak, weak and pathetic," stammered Keith, clutching the bars of the cell. "I'm sorry...you're so...I don't think you could survive one more feeding. I failed you, I failed, I - "

"What the hell are you talking about, weak?" Sheppard grumbled, trying to shift his creaking body to a more comfortable position. The thought of hating Keith had never even crossed him - if anything, he liked Keith even more. "It took a lot of guts to do what you just did. Standing up for me like that..."

"But I failed," Keith whispered.

"Hey, it's the _thought _that counts," said Sheppard wryly, with the dim hopes of making Keith laugh. No such luck - Keith turned his gaze towards the floor, and Sheppard realized that he was trembling, his thin shoulders moving rhythmically up and down. It was the first time that Sheppard had seen Keith so distraught, and once more guilt flooded him. It was _his _fault...

"Come in," said Sheppard, drawing himself up to a half-sitting position against the wall and patting the floor beside him. "Come on. I don't blame you for anything."

Keith made a slight choked noise, but the bars lifted anyway and he slipped in, graceful despite his trembling. Even when he was inside he didn't look up, which bothered Sheppard in a way he couldn't name.. Maybe because he wanted to see those eyes, those luminous, moon-like eyes suffused with concern...

_Don't be a jerk, _he told himself. He understood implicitly that the one who needed comforting now was Keith. With a grunt he lifted himself and maneuvered closer to Keith, but to his surprise, the young Wraith shifted to the side - saying without words that he didn't want Sheppard to come closer.

"Hey, look, I'm telling you, I'm not angry at you. You can come here if you like, you know," Sheppard said. Seeing Keith beat himself up like this made something squirm inside Sheppard.. _No one should have to suffer for _my _sake._

"It's more...it's more a matter of how _I _feel," Keith said, slumping against the wall and burying his head in his knees. Sheppard had never seen Keith so abject and he automatically moved to comfort the boy - somehow, anyhow - but pain twinged through his every nerve and he fell still. What could he have done, anyhow?

"I thought...I thought...I wanted to do more more for you...but I couldn't. I'm such a weakling..." Keith's voice was muffled but his words were more than clear. "I thought...for once I could _change _that..."

"You've already done enough," Sheppard said. "Got me food and clothes and helped me when I was sick, you know...really, thanks for the help. I appreciate it, I really do."

Keith did not respond verbally, but his his head lifted a fraction; Sheppard had the feeling that the Wraith was surveying him through that curtain of hair with a wide and hopeful eye.

"Colonel Sheppard...I...you asked me before what attracted me to you," Keith said softly. Sheppard blinked - he was sure he'd never asked anything of the sort. But at least Keith wasn't beating himself up anymore, so Sheppard decided to let him continue talking.

"I know now. It's because you are strong, and I am weak. The weak are attracted to the strong by nature."

"Um," said Sheppard, because he felt he should speak, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Keith plunged forward as if he hadn't heard, and he probably hadn't - Sheppard's voice was still alarmingly weak.

"You are...you're easily the strongest person I've ever met. Human or Wraith or otherwise. To believe against all odds that you are going to be rescued...it takes strength. And you haven't yet cracked...you still have the will to survive, even after - after everything. I know - I know that I couldn't hold up - as you have - look at _me, _hit once, and I scamper like a coward."

The disgust in his voice was so intense that it made Sheppard cringe. This was wrong. So wrong. What the hell was Keith saying? He couldn't _really _believe the words that were tripping one after another from his mouth, nobody could, especially not if they were in Keith's place - if they'd done everything that Keith had. But if Keith himself couldn't see it...then Sheppard would make him.

"Listen," he said, trying to sound as calm as he could, "you did the best you could under the circumstances. And you've already been brave - been strong - enough already. It takes a lot of strength to stand up for what you think is right, y'know, especially to your boss. But you risked your ass anyway, and you're still risking your ass just being in here with me. I don't know you that well, all right, but I do know enough to know this - _you're not weak. _So stop lying, will you? 'Cause if there's one thing I hate, it's a liar."

Keith laughed. Not his heavenly celeste laugh, but a sardonic snicker. "You overestimate me, Colonel Sheppard."

"No, you underestimate yourself," Sheppard snapped. "Listen, if it bothers you that much, then you don't have to help me out anymore."

_That _got Keith to look up. He stared directly at Sheppard, his eyes astonished and wide behind his curtain of hair. "What - but - but you'll _die!" _

Keith's reaction satisfied Sheppard more than the colonel could say; at least the kid had snapped out of his funk. He managed something of a pained shrug and grinned, even though that simple movement made his facial muscles ache. "Hey, if I'm as strong as you say, , then I should be able to survive with or without you."

In an instant Keith fixed his gaze on the floor again. He looked as if he was struggling to speak, but didn't get out anything more intelligible than a few pained grunts. Soon, an uncomfortable silence descended over the two of them. As the wordless minutes slid past, Sheppard began to feel that he ought to speak; the desire was augmented with a sense of urgency. He sensed that Keith was pressed on time. How long until his superiors discovered his current, and most undesirable, location?

"Keith," he said, surprised by how loud his voice, even weak as it was, sounded in the cell. Keith did not look up.

"Look...uh..." he continued, shuffling to the side so that he was a little closer to Keith - the young Wraith did nothing to acknowledge Sheppard's presence. "Um...you shouldn't be so hard on yourself, okay? It's bad for your health."

The noise Keith made sounded like a derisive snort. Undeterred, the colonel pressed forward "It's not your fault, all right? It's not your goddamn fault! It's unrealistic, and it's _stupid, _for you to think that you can stop Later and his bunch. You've already done enough by helping me, and that's all I need from you, okay, Keith? Your help!"

"I could always do more," the Wraith mumbled. Sheppard laughed weakly.

"We can _always _do more, Keith, all the time, believe me," he said with surprising sagacity, "but right now, you're doing enough and that's all that counts. And you are being brave. Just by being here...I don't think Later would be very happy if he finds you, huh?"

"He doesn't like me much, anyway," was Keith's faint response. "None of them do. It's understandable. My attitude towards humans...does not go over well with my brethren."

Sheppard could no longer hold himself upright, so he let his limbs go slack and slid to the floor, where he sprawled out. The position eased the aching in his limbs...a little. "Keith?" he said. When Keith didn't reply, he went on. "Keith. If you want...when I get outta here, I'll take you with me."

And _finally _Keith looked at him. His eyes were wide and bright as twin moons and as always, displayed his every emotion. Fear, disbelief, misery..._hope. _Something tugged at Sheppard's heart when he saw that hopeful light, and it wasn't the pain from Later's feeding.

"You mean that?" Keith whispered.. "You will take me with you?"

"Only if you want it," Sheppard said. "It's a promise."

"Are you - of _course_ - I - this is - but - it's pointless," and suddenly Keith's voice hardened and acquired a bitter edge. "There is no escape. Not from here."

"You know, I've heard that before," Sheppard said, "but I proved that Wraith wrong, and I'll prove you wrong too. Just you wait."

"Colonel..._why..." _Keith's voice was a low, desolate moan. Sheppard had the feeling that he'd buried his face in is hands but he couldn't see from his current angle; so with a grunt of pained effort, he pulled himself up on one elbow and turned to face Keith. The young Wraith had lowered his head again but his hands were clasped in his lap; his arms were trembling.

Sheppard looked upon him, the hunched form too small for its coat, the cascade of snowy hair, the shaking shoulders...and his heart broke into a hundred pieces of pity and he lurched towards Keith and -

And threw his arms around the back of Keith's neck and pulled him into a hug.

_He was hugging a Wraith. _Yet it didn't feel wrong. He'd did it on an impulse and it was an impulse that Sheppard would trust to the edge of the universe and back - the desire to comfort a hurt child. Keith stiffened but at first but with a gentle sigh he relaxed and leaned his head on Sheppard's shoulder. One of Sheppard's hand moved down to pat his back but he stopped when his palm bumped against a hard, bony ridge along Keith's spine. Despite himself, a quiver of disgust rose in his stomach, but he didn't let go of Keith. He _couldn't, _not when the boy was still trembling so violently. He settled for patting Keith's shoulder blades, which he felt acutely even through the overlarge coat. Keith was so light, so small - he seemed composed of nothing but skin and bones. So..._breakable. _

Sheppard clung on tighter. The skin of Keith's face had a surprisingly dry texture for its slimy appearance, but his hair was nice and soft and scented faintly of mint. If both of them had been feeling more like themselves, he would have quipped something about what conditioner Keith used, but talking would ruin this moment. This strangely magical moment in which the arbitrary categories "human" and "Wraith" didn't matter anymore.

Gradually, Keith's shaking subsided, and Sheppard allowed himself to relax and rest his head against the wall, though he kept one hand on Keith's slender back. When Keith lifted his head again, Sheppard was pleased to see that Keith was smiling.

"Colonel Sheppard...no..._John..." _Keith said softly. The smile had slipped from his face, to be replaced by a wary apprehension. Sheppard, who had been lolling against the wall and allowing his mind to drift, jerked when he heard his first name. Nobody had called him "John" since he'd been thrown into this hole.

Keith gave no sign that he'd noticed Sheppard's reaction. Fixing his eyes on the wall to the left of Sheppard's head, he talked quickly and tripped over his words often. . "I - ah - you - you asked me why - you keep wondering - why-why - I h-help you. It's because...I...I think...I...ah..."

By now, all thoughts of relaxing had been banished from Sheppard's mind. He sat as straight upright as he could manage and tightened his grip on Keith. Despite himself, anticipation was beginning to lighten his chest. He _did _want to know. Ever since Keith had first brought him food, he'd wanted to know why. Why Keith kept helping him when there was nothing but danger for both of them if he was found out. Why a Wraith bothered to render a human so much aid without expecting anything in return. A reason deeper than mere "interest..."

When Keith met Sheppard's eyes his expression was suffused with terror - but layered with determination.

"John, I...I think...I'm in love with you."

* * *

Please do review.


	6. The Darkest Hour

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Six: The Darket Hour_

Not much has been changed about this chapter except for prose cleanups. The nature of the confession scene has changed very slightly, though, because I happened to intensify Sheppard's feelings for Keith in the previous chapters.

It's the same day for Sheppard, and around noon the second day for Atlantis.

* * *

_I think I'm in love with you._

Sheppard's first reaction came from a place beyond rational thought, beyond even instinct. It was pure reflex. He recoiled and shoved Keith off him with so much force that Keith tumbled on his back on the floor. He stared up at Sheppard, looking hurt and confused, but any sympathy that Sheppard might have had for him had dried up. He pressed himself further against the wall and glared at the Wraith.

"Get away," Sheppard snarled heatedly. "Get away from me, you hear? And _stay away!"_

All he could think was how wrong it was - yet how it made it so much sense. No wonder Keith had helped him, no wonder he always acted so flustered around Sheppard. How stupid and slow Sheppard had been to not perceive it earlier. He darkly wondered that if Keith were a human girl, would he have picked up sooner - but that was exactly the problem. Keith _wasn't. _He was a Wraith. A Wraith. When Sheppard stared back at him, piercingly, he tried not to see Keith but a monster, green-skinned, dark-coated, white-haired, with pointed teeth and clawed hands and facial slits.

For whatever reason, Sheppard failed. He looked into those eyes that shone like full moons, and he could only see a hurt and confused youth. That thought made him desperate, and it made him angrier. Whatever Keith had done to him - however, he'd hoodwinked Sheppard - he'd done a _hell _of a good job.

"John - " Keith began, his voice shaking.

"Who gave you the right to use my first name?" Sheppard bellowed. "Tell me! Who told you that you could call me John?"

"I'm sorry, Colonel Sheppard, but I - "

"When? _When, _you little shit?" Sheppard hissed. "When'd you start thinking - start - "

Sheppard doubted that Keith could understand him - he was barely able intelligible sounds through his constricted throat - but the young Wraith graced him with a reply almost instantly. "I...it started...it...ah...I...I don't know, I don't know, it just happened, but I think I truly realized when - when you - when you just - "

Disgust knifed through Sheppard. "Listen, there was nothing romantic about that. You hear me? _Nothng? _It was just - oh, for the love of _God, _it was - look! How the hell could you _possibly _mistake that for - for anything more!"

A tiny part of him wondered why he was getting so worked up over this - after all, hadn't he fallen in love with aliens before? But they had been beautiful women, not male Wraith. Were Wraith even capable of love?

"Colonel Sheppard," whispered Keith. Sheppard took this as a cue to continue.

"Hell, how do you even know what love is, anyway? I don't think _your _kind is too big on love, you know!" He made sure to heavily emphasize the "your." He had been deluded long enough. So what if Keith had been helping him since he'd ended up in this hellhole...that didn't change the fact that he was a Wraith. The enemy. _And Sheppard had just been hugging him._

"I...I know...but I felt...I've never felt this way before...and some of the other prisoners...told...they talked about...love..." Keith said. "I'm sure of it. I _know. _I...I love - "

Sheppard instantly cut Keith off before Keith could say "you."He did not want to hear it,, did not want to hear this Wraith's deluded lies. "No. It's called a _crush, _what you have. You don't love me! How long have you known me? Less than a goddamn week! You think you can fall in love with someone in such a short time?"

Keith flinched as if Sheppard had just struck him. With a bubble of guilt, Sheppard remembered that Later had actually hit Keith earlier... He was an outcast among his own people. _Still, that doesn't give him license to fall in love with me!_

"I d-don't - but I'm _sure_ - "

"Look, you're a Wraith_," _cut in Sheppard, infusing that one word with all the connotations it carried - lifesucking monsters that viewed humans as cattle. "I'm a human_. _Ever thought of that? What did you say before - _humans are food, _right? I wouldn't fall in love with my lunch, so why are you falling in love with yours?"

A violent shudder coursed down Keith's body. "Colonel Sheppard - don't - that's a _horrible _thing to say."

"It's the truth," Sheppard said. "And if we're not your lunch, we're just tools for you. I'm just a tool with the Ancient gene. That's the only reason I'm still alive."

"Please - I don't think that - I think - you are - you are _much _more," Keith said.. "Not all of us...not all Wraith are like that," he added in an abject whisper.

"Yeah, I'm sure that there are good Wraith out there, and I'm sure we'd be the best of friends if you weren't, oh, _trying to eat us all up!" _With strength born from fury, he surged to his feet - but seconds later, his knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor. Keith watched him out of one luminous eye, the other hidden by his hair.

"Please...don't strain yourself, Colonel Sheppard," he said.

"Wel, geez, _thanks _for the concern," Sheppard said, drawing himself against the wall again.

"I can't...if I could_, _I wouldn't feed on humans," Keith said. "And never - even if I were all alone with you, and starving - I'd never feed on you, I - "

This time, Sheppard cut him off before he could begin to say "love." "Don't start on that again."

"Why shouldn't I?" For the first time, Keith sounded angry. "I love you, Colonel Sheppard, I love you, I - "

"_Shut the hell up!" _Sheppard screamed with such force he _felt _the scream, surging throughout his body in a wave of pain. "Quit using words that you don't understand!"

"I understand," Keith said, a challenge flashing across his eye.

"No, you don't_," _Sheppard said fiercely. "A little kid like _you? _Hell, even if you were human, I'd never accept, because you know what? _I'm old enough to be your father, damn it!" _Once more, he couldn't finish speaking without his voice rising into a scream; to his shame, his voice cracked halfway through the last syllable. There was only so much screaming his throat could handle.

"I am not _that _young, Colonel Sheppard," Keith protested. "In your human years, I would be - I would be, ah, twenty-one."

Sheppard was surprised to learn Keith's precise age, but his surprise didn't dull his anger. "Who gives a damn, that's still a hell a lot younger than I am. Not to mention that you're a goddamned Wraith. The enemy!"

It took Keith an inordinately long time to reply. Sheppard waited in silence, his heart pounding, less because he wanted to hear what Keith had to say than because he'd lost all words. If only he could sleep, sleep and wake up and find himself back at Atlantis and all this a bad dream... That'd be easier to deal with than _this. _

When Keith spoke, it was with a bitter edge. "I thought that you would be different. That you would be more understanding."

When Sheppard didn't reply, Keith went on. "I'm sorry I brought this up, Colonel Sheppard. You're right. It was foolish of me."

Sheppard was startled by Keith's sudden one-eighty; he jerked upright and said, "Hey, wait a sec - "

But Keith cut him off again, which a small part of Sheppard had to concede was fair given the number of times he had rudely interrupted Keith throughout the conversation. "No, you're right, I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm talking about, but I can't stop it - oh, forget it all. I'm sorry."

He shook his head, his hair swinging in a curtain around him. By now he'd stood up and without glancing back he faced the cell door. "I'll - I'll leave now. I'm sorry I bothered you - "

"Wait!" Sheppard said, though he had no idea why he wanted Keith to stay. What more did they have to say to each other? What had they _ever _had to say to each other? They were Wraith and human, and that was a divide that could not be crossed. The longer they spent together, the more confused and uncertain they were bound to become.'

If anything, Sheppard should be glad that Keith had turned around to his point of view. But the speed and suddenness of Keith's change of heart disconcerted him. The fight had gone out of himmuch too quickly...

"Here is some more food," Keith said curtly, depositing a package by Sheppard's side. An inordinately long pause, and then, "...take care of yourself."

Before Sheppard could protest further, Keith had left and the bars had closed. Sheppard walked on his knees towards the bars, ignoring the pained protests from his leaden muscles, and peered through them down the hall - but it was empty. Keith was gone.

"Damn it," Sheppard growled, but he had no idea why he felt like he'd lost something. Everything had worked out for the best, hadn't it? If he'd let Keith think he had a chance, what would have happened...? It was better that they were honest with each other, wasn't it...wasn't it.

Then why did Keith's words sting so much? _I thought that you would be different. _

_You know what, kiddo? _murmured a voice deep inside Sheppard that the colonel didn't want to acknowledge. _I thought so too._

* * *

"You're sure," said Dr. Weir, her tone making it clear that this was not a question, but a statement.

"Well...not absolutely one hundred percent, but yes, after running analyses all morning, I've managed to reduce the number of planets that Sheppard is most likely being held it to only two," Rodney said with his characteristic smug smile as he stood before the team in the meeting room. "The plan is to send a team to each word, and, well, scout for a bit. Hopefully we'll find enough to figure out for sure which world Sheppard is at."

"If Sheppard's even _at _any of these worlds," growled Ronon. Rodney glowered at him.

"Look, I told you, I spent all morning trying to narrow it down! Hell, I even gave up my lunch, and now I'm _starving! _Got anything to say to that, 'cause I sure as hell - "

"Dr. McKay," Teyla said, though she looked as if she was trying hard to hide a smile.

"That's right, don't get sidetracked," said Weir. "I take that this mission is only for reconnaissance purposes?"

For some reason, she folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow at Rodney. Rodney grinned weakly, though he wondered if _someone _had let slip that their previous disastrous "reconnaissance mission" had not really been about reconnaissance after all. A certain someone whose name started with a Z and frequently mumbled in Czech when he was distressed.

"Uh-huh, recon only," Rodney said, shuffling from foot to foot. "And I figure that once we confirm which world he's on, we'll send a full complement of marines and bust him out. That is, of course, if we get approved." He nodded deferently in Weir's direction.

To his encouragement, Weir nodded. "Very well. Get everything you need and go, but be sure to have Major Lorne assemble another team to visit the other world," said Weir with a decisive nod. "Come back the instant you've confirmed which planet John is at. And...good luck."

Carson, Ronon, and Teyla took this as a cue to vacate their seats and sprin to the gate room, but Rodney paused before he exited the door, to turn around and give Weir a last glance.

"Come back alive," she said.

Rodney raised his hand in a salute, before dashing out to catch up with his comrades.

* * *

"Where'd the Wraith take the man? Better tell us quick, because we don't have all day," Ronon growled as he pressed his gun against his victim's head. The man backed against the stone wall and sucked in deep, rattling breaths.

"Hurry - I sense many Wraith coming," cried Teyla, peering out from behind the wall and firing a volley of shots at the human guards hiding behind the trees. "We don't have much more time."

"Hurry up and talk," Ronon shoved the gun into the man's bleeding temple. The man groaned and tried to turn away.

"No, no, I won't, I won't, they'll save me when they come, they'll save me - "

"They'll _kill _you," Ronon snarled. "Talk! That man in the dark clothes, where'd they take him?"

The world was dark but the night was illuminated by three moons that cast the world in sharp contrast between stark shadows and unearthly silver light. Dusky forest stretched around the team and they were fending off human guards outside a crumbling warehouse. Before the team had captured one of the guards and thus gotten the rest to shoot at them, they'd overheard the guards discussing a prisoner, a dark-haired man in dark clothes, who the Wraith had taken to the warehouse before spiriting him away again after a few hours. Unfortunately, the team hadn't been able to overhear where the Wraith took the man who was clearly Sheppard. Ronon was now attempting to interrogate their captured guard, but he wasn't having much success. The others were trying to be patient but it was hard when more guards kept flooding forward to replace the ones that had fallen, and Teyla was growing more and more agitate as she sensed approaching Wraith.

"Damn _it!" _Rodney shot a nervous glance at the shooting guards. "Knock him out and drag him with us if you have to, but we have got to get outta here right now before we become Wraith dinner!"

"Yes, yes, yes, I will be rewarded, rewarded greatly, yes, yes, they'll reward me - " the man blathered, and he threw his head back and unleashed a wild giggle. Rodney winced and if he hadn't been holding a gun he'd have clamped his hands over his ears. Ronon shot the man a disgusted looked before hefting his gun and stunning the man point blank.

The man's giggles abruptly cut off as if he was a recording that had been paused, and he crumpled against the wall. Ronon grabbed him none-too-gently and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

"Let's go!" he roared as he sprinted in the direction of the Stargate, firing over his shoulder at the guards who were still relentlessly shooting their stunners behind the tree cover. Several crumpled and screamed, but the others took up their slack - Rodney narrowly ducked a shot that would have knocked him cold.

"That would be a _very _good idea," shouted Rodney, peeling away from the wall and sprinting after Ronon. The rest of the team retreated as well, with Ronon and Teyla providing cover fire.

The gate came into view and Ronon wasted no time began punching in Atlantis' address. Teyla glanced around wildly, her hair whipping around her. "They're almost here - many Wraith, heading this way - "

"Let's go, let's go, let's _go!" _Rodney screamed. Just in time, Ronon finished dialing Atlantis. Everyone leapt back as the wormhole stabilized but seconds later they sprinted up the platform and pelted through the event horizon. Rodney stumbled and almost fell on his face when the bright lights of Atlantis' gate room flooded his vision.

"Well, _that _was exciting," Carson said, a little too brightly to be sincere.

"You can say that again," Rodney groaned.

* * *

The guard the team had captured slouched upon the bench in Atlantis' holding cell, his head lolling on his shoulder.. He was a middle-aged man with a fuzz of red hair and a scar that slashed his forehead in two. Ever since he'd woken up, he hadn't said a single world - he seemed unduly interested in the floor beneath him.

"Do you feel up to talking now?" said Dr. Elizabeth Weir, folding her arms and surveying the man sternly. Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon were assembled behind her, each fixing the prisoner with as evil a glare as they could muster - even Rodney's managed to look a little threatening.

For the first time, the prisoner lifted his head, but only to throw the Atlantis team a weary look as if he couldn't find anything more boring than them. He then resumed examining the floor.

"Well?" Weir demanded. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"This is pointless," growled Ronon, his hand moving to his gun. "The lunk's not going to say a word."

Said "lunk" lifted his head again and fixed Ronon with a twisted half-smile. For the first time since he'd been imprisoned, he made a sound - a high-pitched giggle that lasted for an inordinate amount of time. It was starting to hurt Weir's ears and she sympathized when Ronon's hand wandered towards his gun. But they needed the man alive if they wanted to interrogate him.

Thankfully, he decided to drop the giggle after what had to have been five minutes, and started picking at lint on his pants, humming tunelessly under his breath.

Weir made one last stab at diplomacy, even though she found herself longing to order Ronon to shoot him. "Listen," she said to him. "We need to know where the Wraith took that man you saw. The one in the uniform like ours. Tell us, and maybe we'll let you go."

"Ha ha ha ha heh heh he heh heh..." That hysterical giggle again, complete with slapping his knees and tossing his head from side to side. Weir's heart sank. To be perfectly honest...this man apeared insane. Which threw into doubt anything he claimed - Sheppard's supposed location included.

"Do you remember where the Wraith took the man?" she asked, stepping closer to the bars. The prisoner's giggles had thankfully died down, but he was now chuckling to himself - he didn't seem to have heard Weir.

"The guy's _nuts," _Rodney declared suddenly, throwing his hands into the air. "Look at him - he's the walking definition of 'two French fries short of a happy meal!' We'll never be able to get _anything _out of him! Who knows if he's even telling the truth!"

"Hey," Ronon said, "weren't you the one who told him to take us?"

"Yeah, well I - " Rodney rounded on Ronon, swelling like a pufferfish and looking ready to embark on a diatribe.

Weir stepped between the two of them before the argument could intensify. "Rodney, Ronon, break it up. Listen - all of you. I know how badly you want John back. We _all _want him back. But fighting with each other won't bring us any closer to rescuing John from the Wraith. Now - "

Hearing the word "Wraith" seemed to have incited their prisoner. His constant low chuckling turned into a hysterical cackle and he wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked back and forth on the bench. Weir and the team stared blankly at him, all feeling that they should do something but they had no idea what.

"Wraith - yes - yes - the Wraith will come - they'll rescue me they'll rescue me _yes they will _they will they will they _will_ - for I am Schebner, their most loyal servant, heh heh, hee hee ha ha ha _ha!"_

Well, now they knew the prisoner's name. Which admittedly wasn't much. Weir exchanged glances with Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon before shaking her head. They'd be here for some time, it seemed. At least until Schebner felt like giving them useful information - which didn't seem to be happening soon.

* * *

It was time to escape.

After Keith had left, Sheppard had with colossal effort turned his thoughts as far away from the strange young Wraith as possible. Which was easier said than done. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Keith's luminous eyes gazing back, swimming with hurt. And whenever he let his thoughts drift too far, those words rose in his ears, echoing with dull accusation: _I thought that you would be different. _But when he blinked back Keith's voice and Keith's gaze, his thoughts flitted somewhere even more unpleasant: the realization that he had been confined here for around five days, by his most accurate estimate.

_Five freaking days. _Sheppard had been Later's prisoner for almost an entire week. Something must be done about this unfortunate fact. He tried to quell that nagging doubt...why hadn't Atlantis come if it had been that long?

Well, whatever the reason, he wasn't going to lounge around waiting for Atlantis anymore. Today, on the fifth day, he was going to escape. He had already cooked up something of a plan - when Later came back (as he inevitably would) to drag Sheppard back to the Ancient weapon, Sheppard would barrel his way through Later and his drones, steal their weapons and make a mad dash through the halls, stunning any Wraith he encountered and hope and pray that he eventually stumbled across an exist. And once he'd made it out of the base...well, that was the difficult part (as if the "getting out of the base" part wasn't difficult enough). Sheppard figured that if Atlantis hadn't yet saved him, that meant he was somewhere remote and difficult to access.

Potentially, he was on a planet without Stargate.

The instant the thought crossed his mind Sheppard shoved it back into the dark pit from which it came. Most inhabitated planets in the Pegasus Galaxy had Stargates; Keith had said there were humans on this planet, so by all reason it must have a Stargate, too! With that settled, Sheppard returned to thinking about this plan-that-was-not-really-a-plan. Once he managed to escape the Wraith base, he would have to find his way to the Stargate-that-definitely-existed. Maybe he could inquire directions from the humans...if they weren't a bunch of Wraith worshippers who would return him to the hands of the Wraith.

It was incredibly risky and not much of a plan at all - most of it depended on a series of "ifs" that probably wouldn't turn out in his favor. He figured it would be much less difficult if he was in prime condition, but old and creaky from multiple feedings and still suffering from his head wound, he probably wouldn't be able to take on a single Wraith. It was already difficult enough to fight Wraith without weapons. In his current condition, would he even be able to get in a punch?

_I'll do it...I have to do it...I have to escape..._

Once more, Sheppard's thoughts turned to Keith, and with a guilty pang he remembered that he had promised to take Keith with him when he escaped. The negative - and realistic - part of Sheppard told him not to worry, because this attempt wasn't going to work anyway.

_Oh, quit being such a worrywart, _the more optimistic - and idiotic - part of him admonished.

Did he even want to take the kid with him? The less he had to do with Wraith kids who were supposedly in love with him, the better.

A familiar thudding sound cut through his aching head and Sheppard's heart leapt into his throat. No, not so soon! He needed to refine his plan -

What the hell, that "plan" was as refined as ever. If he didn't test it now, when would he ever have the chance to?

A blink later, and Later himself was standing in front of the cell. He offered Sheppard a smirk that the colonel didn't return - he was busy pulling himself up to a crouch, prepared to spring. The bars lifted and Sheppard, with a great gasp of effort, tore himself from the floor and dashed madly at the Wraith. He slammed his fist as hard as he could into Later's stomach. Later dropped, obviously winded, and Sheppard was startled by how easy it had been - but then again, he'd had the element of surprise on his side.

Just for insurance, Sheppard kicked Later in the head before barrelling past the two drones. They tried grabbing at him but he jabbed his elbows into their sides and darted out of range of their grabbing hands. Before they could chase him or begin shooting after him, he tore down the hall.

_Hey...this might actually work! _he marveled as he ran, blessing his fortune that no other Wraith tried to stop him. He heard the buzz of stunner shots but it was easy to duck out of their way, and the noises ceased when he rounded a corner; he'd thrown off his pursuers. Best of all, his legs had yet to give in and he felt he had myriad strength left - enough to carry him straight out of the base and across the world. It was as if he'd tapped a deep reservoir of strenght hidden inside him. For an exhilarating moment, he felt as young as he had before Later's feedings...

Sheppard's giddiness buoyed him but it also smothered him, choked the thinking portion of his mind. If that part had been in working order, he'd have realized that he'd forgotten to steal a stunner from the Wraith he had escaped.

The next instant, as the realization crashed upon him, Sheppard's good luck ran out. The next hallway he ducked into was swarming with Wraith. They stopped, human and Wraith regarding each other with equally blank stares.

_What to do, what to do..._

Any further thoughts were driven from his mind when a blast of blue light hit him in the back and spread throughout his entire twitching body. He hit the floor with a heavy thud. Later, followed by his drone consort, lowered his stunner and bent down to toss Sheppard's prone form over his shoulders, handling the man like he didn't weigh more than an empty sack.

"Carry on," he said to the group of Wraith who stared in mutual bewilderment at the scene. "We were merely practicing hunting drills using the prisoner...much more convenient than fetching a random human from the village, wouldn't you agree?"

Smirking, he turned heel and carried Lt. Colonel John Sheppard back to his cell.

* * *

Ha, Later, you. I didn't spare him much thought on the first draft, but as I've gone back and edited this, I find myself liking him more and more. He's got one diabolical sense of humor. Though I doubt he'd appreciate Sheppard's name for him.

Please do review.


	7. The Wraith's Story

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Seven: The Wraith's Story_

Another edited chapter. What's changed the most is Keith's backstory - I changed the name of the human to "Luka" (another change like "Poncho" that is only for aesthetic purposes), and cleared up all those rambling sentences. Hopefully that section will be easier to read. And on a more minor note, a turned Luka gay, so that his actions when it comes to Keith make a little more sense.

* * *

"Colonel Sheppard, you are the biggest idiot to have ever, _ever _traveled the worlds."

Keith had certainly learned a few tips from Rodney when it came to waking up Colonel John Sheppard. A quickly-fired, snappish insult was _just _the first thing he wanted to hear in the morning! Sheppard grumbled and stirred and his fixed his bleary gaze upon the figure that stood, quivering in anger, just beyond the bars of the cell. He thought of offering Keith a teasing smile, and had he been feeling better, he'd have responded to the insult with a wry quip, but both ideas were dashed from his mind when his gaze focused upon Keith's face. He had never seen Keith with such a terrible expression on his face - a mix of disgust and uncontrolled fury.

"What were you trying to do ? Escape unarmed with no idea as to where you were going?" Anger caused Keith's voice to rise and fall dramatically. "Well? They could have _killed _you! Or did that thought never cross your mind?"

"Ngh...sorry, _sorry," _Sheppard groaned, hauling himself to a sitting position against the wall. He was startled by the anger in Keith's voice, but beneath that anger was something else - concern. For some reason, that heartened him. "Look, I'm fine, okay? I'm fine..."

"No, you are not," Keith hissed. "They sedated you. You've been sleeping for a day."

"Really, now..." He certainly felt groggy and incoherent, and his body felt heavier than a lead-filled log. Worse, his headache had begun anew with a vengeance - it alternately pounded and stabbed. Sheppard couldn't believe that he had felt so energetic while running. Now it seemed that the very idea of being fit and spry was nothing but a happy dream.

"Consider yourself lucky they didn't do anything worse to you," Keith said. "Usually when prisoners try to run, they are killed. That's what I meant when I said there is no escape."

"Well, they do need me," Sheppard said, a little disoriented by Keith's fury. "Relax, okay? Keep scowling at me like that and your face will freeze that way."

Keith made a noise that sounded a lot like "Harrumph," and turned away from Sheppard so the colonel couldn't see his face.

"What's with the bad mood, anyway...?" he mumbled, mostly to himself. The last time he'd seen Keith, the young Wraith had been desperately professing his love for Sheppard, but now he was acting as if that hadn't happened at all. Or rather...he was acting the same he had at the end of that disastrous encounter. Something raked at Sheppard's heart and it infuriated him - but he couldn't give voice to it because he didn't understand it.

For a long time, neither human nor Wraith spoke. The silence was broken only by the heavy beating of Sheppard's heart, but his mind was far from quiet - nebulous, half-defined thoughts swirled through his head, all centering on one thing: escape.

_My first attempt may have failed,_ _but that's 'cause I didn't...I didn't know enough. I didn't know which way to go, how to get out. But I'm willing to bet that _Keith _does._

"Hey...Keith," he said. Keith inclined his head in Sheppard's direction but didn't speak, which Sheppard took as a cue to continue.

"Listen...uh...I don't know what your story is, or why...or why you're so mad at me...but all the same, uh...I'd like to ask...I need, no, I'd really appreciate your help."

"I've _been _helping you," Keith said in a discontent mumble. "See, there's food in the cell. You haven't eaten it yet."

Sheppard turned around to see that sure enough, several new packages were tucked in the corner of the cell. The colonel regarded them for a while but then, with a painful grunt, pulled himself to his feet. Every step sent pain shooting through his heart and his leg muscles screamed, but he managed to stumble to the bars and grab them. Only inches separated him from Keith. If he wanted to, he could reach out of them and touch the young Wraith...though why he would want to was beyond him. He'd already decided that the last time he would voluntarily touch a Wraith had been when he had hugged Keith.

_Yeah, and that's what caused him to fall in love with me, or so he says._

"Okay, I appreciate it, Keith, I really do," said Sheppard. "You getting me food and clothes and everything...but all the same, that's not...I mean...do you think you could help me get out of here?"

Keith's reply was instantaneous. "No."

"Why the hell not?" Sheppard demanded, trying to look Keith in the eye but failing - Keith seemed to have become immersed in something to the side. "Listen, the last time...that time...I failed because I didn't know enough. But with your help..."

"There is no escape," Keith said.

"Yes there _is!" _Sheppard shouted with unbidden strength. "There's always a way out! I just need you to help me find it, dammit! Is that too much to ask?"

"There is no escape," repeated Keith. "You will be wasting your time searching for one."

"And why is that so?" Sheppard said, roughly. "Or are you just pissed at me 'cause I wouldn't say I loved you?"

For the first time, Keith's cold demeanor cracked - he gasped and a violent tremor coursed through his thin frame. "N-no, no, it's not...it...Colonel Sheppard, that...don't _say..._you just...you say such things..."

"Yeah, okay, I'm a jerk," said Sheppard, trying to slip his hands into pockets that his clothes did not have. "What else is new? Carry on."

"You are...you _are..._you really are a...a jerk," Keith hissed, so low Sheppard almost didn't hear. He whipped around, turning his back on the colonel. Sheppard found himself fighting to resist the bizarre urge to give the long white hair flowing down Keith's back a firm tug.

"Yeah, I get it," he said, trying to find a place to put his hands so he would not follow through on his immature impulse. _Damn, why don't these pants have pockets? _"Okay, I get it. Come on, now, tell me why 'there is no escape.' I'd love to know something new, you know."

As he spoke, discontent coiled inside him. Discontent from the same place that kept on running Keith's words - _I thought that you would be different _- through his mind. What was he thinking, treating his greatest ally in this place so harshly...but all the same, he couldn't look at Keith the same way now that he understood the true nature of the Wraith's feelings. Everything he had done...nursing Sheppard back to help, giving him food, standing up for him...

And now that Sheppard wouldn't reciprocate, he was acting like _this. _It was highly disconcerting, but he had no idea what to do about it. _What the hell do you say to a Wraith kid you've just turned down? _Well...why not say sorry?

Say sorry? That was a laughable thought at best! He had nothing to apologize for, he'd done nothing wrong; Keith should know more than anyone that nothing could have ever bloomed between them, because there was that divide of Wraith and human and it could not be surmounted. Although, for a precious moment, when Sheppard had been hugging Keith, it really _hadn't _mattered...

"There is no escape," Keith said for the third time.

"And why's that?" Sheppard said. "I mean, don't just stand there repeating yourself, tell me _why. _Why do you think that I can't get out of here? It can't be that hard, can it?"

Keith coughed scornfully. "The base is heavily guarded, Colonel Sheppard. In addition, guards are posted at regular intervals throughout the village and the surrounding area...and there is always a complement of at least ten around the Stargate."

Sheppard shrugged discontently. "Eh, no problem." If he had a weapon, taking out even that many Wraith guards shouldn't be that hard...and if he had Keith's help...

Keith went on as if Sheppard hadn't spoken. "Not to mention that it is...Colonel Sheppard, you do have something called seasons on Earth, do you not?"

"Uh, yeah," said Sheppard blankly. Some non sequitur _that _had been.

"I will tell you right now that it's the middle of winter here," said Keith stiffly. "Do you know what snow is? Yes? Because there is a good amount of it here. It snowed three feet last night. Your metabolism would be unable to handle the cold, and you would freeze to death before you reached the Stargate."

"Oh..." Sheppard couldn't think of anything to say to this new revelation - it about spoke for itself. He had had no idea...in fact, he'd assumed that this planet was yet another generic temperate rainforest. Stupid of him to think that only Earth had seasons and a monopoly of snow. He gazed down at his torn and threadbare gray clothes stolen from a dead man, and grimly concurred with Keith that his chances of escaping were nil.

But he wasn't about to give up. He would _not. _If he didn't escape soon, he would die. Surely even Keith knew that.

"There. As you can see, you can't escape from here," Keith said in a tone of flat finality. "Even if you somehow _did _manage to get past all of the guards at the base, you'd die of the cold before you could get to the Stargate, and that's only if you haven't already been shot to death."

"Damn it, Keith, why do you always have to be so negative_?" _Sheppard demanded, though he himself saw nothing positive in their situation.

"It's not being negative_," _Keith said. "It's called being realistic_, _Colonel Sheppard. You cannot hope to escape from here."

Sheppard regarded Keith with a scowl. "You...you're doing this on purpose_, _aren't you?"

Keith blinked. "Doing what."

"_You _know. You want me to stay here, don't you? You don't want me to escape. I'm willing to bet that with your help, I could get out of here with hardly any trouble. But you don't want to help me. Why, dammit!"

"I...Colonel Sheppard...it...they will...the punishment for aiding prisoners is not...it's...is not pleasant," Keith said, trailing off in a low mumble and staring down at the floor, so that his hair obscured his face. Sheppard watched him with faint concern. He was close enough to see that a tremor had arrested Keith's thin frame.

_No, dammit! Don't get all concerned over him, that's what caused him to - you know!_

So when he spoke, it wasn't to ask if Keith was okay - as he'd been about to ask - but to snap, nastily, "Oh, so you're _afraid."_

Keith's eyes widened and he whirled around again; Sheppard slipped his hands into the waistband of his pants to keep them from yanking on the Wraith's hair. "Maybe...maybe I _am _afraid...but that just goes with what I told you earlier, doesn't it? I am a coward, I am a weakling. I'm not - I'm not like you_, _Colonel Sheppard."

Sheppard jerked his shoulder in a shrug - this was all fine by him. He'd already heard as much from Keith before; back then, he had comforted the young Wraith and tried to assure him that this wasn't true. Now, he didn't care...or rather, he forced himself not to. He suppressed the glimmers of a conscience inside him - they were his weakness. He couldn't succumb again to thinking of Keith as more than a means to an end. A means to escaping. What the hell, it wasn't his problem if Keith didn't feel up to helping him. He would just have to find a way to bust out on his own...

_What, and not take him with me? After everything he did, after I _promised..._it's the least I could do, right? _whispered the voice that apparently had not been deadened.

To Sheppard's surprise, Keith continued speaking, though he paused for an inordinately long time and drew in a deep breath. "Not only that...but...I don't...I don't want _you _to die."

"Oh, that's sweet," Sheppard said with no small amount of sarcasm.

Keith whirled around again, so fast that his hair whipped in a wild white blur around him. Sheppard stumbled backwards and fell onto the floor, his heavy legs unable to support him, when he saw the anger blazing in Keith's eyes. Keith's glare intensified - Sheppard had never seen his eyes like this before. _Burning, _burning with an anger that cut somewhere deep and visceral inside Sheppard...

When Keith spoke, his voice was a low, dark hiss. "Don't you dare, don't you..._don't _take me lightly, Colonel Sheppard! You may think...you may think that...you may laugh, but I'm serious, I truly, truly am. Even if I wasn't - if I didn't feel - I would still...do this...I..._I hate you."_

The last three words hit Sheppard with the force of prizefighter punches. He sprawled on his back, his head swimming. Why did it hurt so damned much? Maybe because he'd never expected it. Just yesterday Keith had said with utmost sincerity, "I think I'm in love with you." And now his feelings had shifted 180 degrees.

_"_What the...what the...Keith, what are you..."

"I do hate you, I really do, I hate - the way you are now - " The more Keith spoke, the less coherent he became. "I don't understand, why, you're being such a - you - "

"A douchebag?" Sheppard suggested in a weak attempt to dissipate the dark intensity that had gathered between the two of them.

Keith swallowed and plunged forward. "Whatever, yes, I suppose - you're being so - I thought you were more understanding, different from the others, but you're just - I don't understand, but I still - I _want _to hate you, Colonel Sheppard, I really, truly, do. I _ought _to hate you. But...but I don't."

_I thought you were more understanding, different from the others. _There he went again, twisting the knife that he'd plunged into Sheppard's gut yesterday. Was Keith aware of how deeply his words were effecting Sheppard? Had he discovered Sheppard's weakness, his fear, and was he using it to manipulate the colonel? No. One look into Keith's eyes disproved that notion entirely. The young Wraith was incapable of guile. How could he be, when his eyes revealed everything? Dangerous eyes.

"Yeah," Sheppard said, forcing himself to speak. He tried to turn his thoughts to the matter at hand - escape from this hellhole. Despite Keith's latest and very discouraging intel, he still felt (rather foolishly) that he could escape - if he had Keith's willing help.

Keith had lowered his head and turned away now. Sheppard coughed to get his attention, but the Wraith didn't seem to notice. So he decided to speak next. "Uh...hey, Keith."

"Sorry," was Keith's whispered reply. Sheppard blinked. What had Keith done wrong that he needed to apologize for? If anything, _Sheppard _was the one who should be...no, he shouldn't think that way.

"For what?" he asked.

"For...for being so...so emotional," Keith mumbled. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't burden you...with _my _issues. So, what do you want, Colonel Sheppard?" He lifted his head and tucked his hair behind his ears, even managing a wan smile. Sheppard returned it with a smile that just as unenthusiastic.

"Maybe you don't want to, and I won't blame you if you don't, I swear," Sheppard said. "But...I need to get out of here, Keith. I need to get back to my people. And to do that...I'd really appreciate...no, I _need _your help. I mean, again, you don't have to if you do want to. Still, I'm going ask - do you feel up to helping me? Keith?"

When Keith replied, his tone was small and afraid. "But...Colonel Sheppard...I thought...I thought you didn't like me..."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't, maybe you love me, maybe you hate me," Sheppard said in a moment of surprising poetry. "All the same, none of that matters. We're grown-ups here, aren't we? We should be able to deal with our feelings. Some other time, some other place, where it's, y'know, appropriate. Right now, what matters is business, and logically, you're the only one who can help me escape from this pit. Regardless of...of whatever I may feel about you. You understand, don't you?"

He realized that what he said was as much for himself as Keith. Some later time, he'd puzzle out exactly what he should feel for the young Wraith. For now, he needed to focus on the most pressing matter, and that wasn't if he was truly different from other humans, or if he loved or hated Keith. It was escape.

Keith blinked a few times before jerking his head in a stiff nod. "Yes, I understand, Colonel Sheppard. But you'd be wasting your time trying to escape from here," he added defensively.

"Fine then, if you're going to be like that..." Sheppard sighed and ran a hand through his coarse gray hair. "How about this. Let's just say...why don't you pretend for a moment that it's possible for me to get out of here. If you were me, how would you go about escaping? I mean, if, hypothetically speaking, there _is _an escape. Well?"

He waited for Keith's response, but when none came, Sheppard pulled himself up by the elbows to get a better look at the young Wraith. Keith was glancing to the side again and his eyes weren't focused on anything; he had folded his arms and was rubbing his chin with one hand. Sheppard realized that he liked the pose. It fit Keith well: a scientist lost in deep thought.

"If you were...if you were speaking hypothetically_..._" Keith said, snapping of his thought-induced reverie. "If I were trying to escape...I would avoid the village and head through the forest to the Stargate. That way, we...I..you...would encounter fewer guards. That is, if you somehow manage to make it out of the base alive."

"Okay, so, how do I get out of the base?" said Sheppard. He was encouraged that Keith was finally giving serious thought to this, rather than repeating "There is no escape" like a broken record.

"There are too many Wraith in here. In your current state, you could not fight them off," Keith said. His hair had already come loose and was obscuring half his face so that only one luminous, reproach-filled eye was visible. "I suppose if I were you I'd try to steal a weapon...but even with a weapon you would be unable to hold off so many Wraith. Your body is simply too weak."

Sheppard winced. So that was it. It all came down to the fact that he was old and feeble courtesy of Later's constant feedings. If only there was a way to reverse this...

_Duh! _Sheppard slammed his palm into his forehead. Keith jumped as if he'd heard a gunshot, and anxiously called through the bars, "Colonel Sheppard! Are you - what's the matter?"

"I'm an idiot_, _an idiot_, _an _idiot..." _Sheppard groaned, ignoring Keith's inquiries. "Way to go, John, you're the biggest moron who's ever lived_..._how could I forget... Hey, Keith!"

"What is it?" Keith said nervously. "What were you...why did you hit yourself?

"Some human thing," Sheppard said, since he didn't feel like explaining to Keith (and how the hell could he?). "But listen Keith, I've got a question for you."

Keith nodded. "Yes? What is it?"

"Wraith can give back life, right?" said Sheppard, hauling himself to a sitting position so he could better see Keith's face. "Am I right?"

"Yes," said Keith, but before Sheppard could speak again he snapped, "but I won't do it for you."

"_What?" _Sheppard wasn't sure if he had heard Keith correctly. "You didn't just - "

"I won't," Keith said, his Adam's apple quivering, stubbornness flashing across his visible eye. "I won't. I promised to never feed on you, Colonel Sheppard. I may be a coward and a weakling, but at the very least I do not go back on my word."

"Oh, really_," _said Sheppard, trying to suppress the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Who said you had to feed on me?"

"I _do," _Keith snarled. "In order to give you back your life, I must drain you of your remaining life force or else feed on someone else and give that life force to you_. _Either way it's distasteful for me."

"Oh, so that's what it comes down it? You're not gonna help me because you think it's 'distasteful,'"Sheppard said nastily, and this time he didn't regret his nastiness.

"No, I...I don't...I don't want to have to feed unless I absolutely must," Keith said, lowering his voice to match Sheppard raising his. "I certainly won't - I won't do it to satisfy a fantasy of yours."

"It is _not _a fantasy!" Sheppard shouted. Rage sparked to life the last flickers of strength inside his body and he surged to his feet and staggered to the cell bars so he was glaring Keith in the eye - a glare that Keith happily returned. "Listen, Keith, I'm seriously planning on escaping, and it'd be a great help if you could make me young again! What, you thought I was kidding when I said I needed your help to get out of here?"

"B-but you said...it was only a hypothetical situation..." Keith protested. He backed off a little bit, but never lifted his gaze from the colonel. "I thought...I didn't think.."

"Well, I'm serious_," _Sheppard said. "I only said all that hypothetical crap to make you actually think about it. Otherwise you'd have kept saying that there was no way out of here."

"And there isn't_," _Keith shot back.

"_Aaaargh!" _Sheppard unleashed a choked scream of frustration and pulled on his hair. Keith watched, confused and concerned, but Keith's concern was the last thing he needed at this junction.

"Colonel Sheppard, are you - "

"I'm fine_, _okay, but why the hell do you keep saying that? There _is _a way out! Do you hear me? _There - is - a - way - out! _I can't find it without your help, dammit! So help me, what's so hard about that? Tell me that there's 'no escape' again and I'll kill you, I swear I - "

Keith swallowed but he did not take his eyes off Sheppard. "Colonel Sheppard...I...are you...serious?"

"Yes_, _dammit! What, you never thought I was serious before?" Sheppard didn't say so much as roar.

"No, I mean about killing me. You're serious?" Sheppard almost laughed at the grave expression on Keith's face - the kid had really taken his incoherent rambling as a viable threat. Laughing would ruin what little rapport they'd managed to regain, though, so when he spoke it was to defuse the situation.

"No, no, no! Of course I wouldn't kill you. Just try to keep the pessimism to a minimum, you know," he said, gesturing to the floor to indicate that was the direction Keith's negativity was supposed to go. Keith nodded, though Sheppard doubted that he'd follow through on the suggestion.

"So," said Sheppard, now that they'd cleared that up, "what do we do? Do you know a good way out of this base?"

Keith said, "There is no _good _way out of here. There are ways out, however."

"Well, then," said Sheppard, after an unsuccessful attempt to stuff his hands into pockets that didn't exist, "what's an _okay _way out of here? Come on, Keith, don't leave me hanging."

"I could...I assume you would want to take the shortest route out," Keith sai. "Unfortunately, the shortest route is also the most direct route...meaning that you would most likely encounter many Wraith."

"I'll just shoot them all," Sheppard said. "And if it's short, that means we'll be out quickly."

Keith made a noise that could only be interpreted as "Tch." Sheppard sighed and rubbed the back of his head. Despite his best efforts, his stamina was wearing down, and he already felt heavy and dizzy...sitting down would be nice, so he plopped upon the squishly floor. Damn, his head had started pounding again...

_Escape? Like _this? _Ha ha, very funny, John!_

Keith's gaze became concerned and he leaned forward to better observe Sheppard. The colonel's vission was becoming blurry and it was getting harder to keep his heavy eyelids open...

"Colonel Sheppard? Colonel Sheppard!" Keith shouted through the bars, suddenly panicked. "Hang in there - stay awake - they are drugging you!"

"Awww damn like I hadn't figured that out already..." Sheppard groaned, his words thick and nearly impossible to force out. He made one last unsuccessful bid at keeping his eyes open but eyelids felt like circles of lead and the rest of his body felt dead, unmovable...he could see nothing but darkish blurs and the white of Keith's hair...

"Colonel Sheppard...aaagh, not _now_..." The tone of Keith's voice abruptly changed and he clutched at his head. Even in his sleepy state, Sheppard recognized Keith's behavior as abnormal.

"Huh...what now?" he half-groaned, half-mumbled.

"They are - I am being called, Colonel Sheppard," Keith attempted to keep his voice even, but it trembled all the same. "I can't refuse this summons. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Wait - uh - what...?" Sheppard said groggily - was Keith just going to _leave _him? That was right, he was tearing down the hall, coat flapping behind him, without so much as a backwards glance. "Hey - come back, you little - "

"I'm sorry, I _will _once I get this done with, forgive me, Colonel Sheppard, I'll be back with something to awaken you - " Keith said in one hurried rush. He paused only to shoot Sheppard one last wild, desperate look and then whirled around and vanished around a corner. Sheppard groaned and rubbed his pounding head. Well, Keith was gone now, and there was nothing he could do about it...the only thing to do was just give in to the aching weariness and sleep...

* * *

The Wraith whom Colonel Sheppard had named "Keith" strode down the winding halls of the Wraith complex, ignoring the drones and other scientists and commanders he passed. His mind was focused on only one thing - the telepathic summons that still rang in his head. It compelled him to find a door deep inside the complex, which opened into a room where at the far end stood a tall goateed Wraith with his back turned to Keith.

"I came," Keith said out loud. He nervously watched his superior, who had not moved from where he was standing with his back rigid and arms crossed. The familiar fear - that weight, that sense of oppression - pushed upon his mind. The fear that came from every meeting with this Wraith ("Later," according to Sheppard) or even worse, his Queen.

"Of course." Later's deep voice was flat and humorless. He did not turn around to face Keith. "So you were with Colonel Sheppard, were you not?"

"Yes," said Keith, " but merely for the purposes of studying him, I assure you."

"Oh? We have many other human prisoners. Why are you not studying them as well?" Later said with a slight sneer. Keith flinched and stepped backwards, feeling - and fearing - the anger radiating from the taller Wraith.

"It is...ah...Colonel Sheppard...he's different_," _Keith mumbled without any idea what he was saying. His hair had fallen into his eyes again, like it always did. Even from the time before he had begun to feed, he had depended on his long bangs to hide him from a world in which he had always been an outsider. Born the smallest and weakest of his brood, he had been fated for nothing more than this most menial of tasks, the research of humans. Sometimes, Keith wondered if there was more to his life - but the Wraith were, by nature, a practical people, and so he always quashed his musings before they went anywhere. His situation was inescapable.

"Of course he is," Later didn't say so much as snarl. "But I wonder...is it merely scientific curiosity that keeps bringing you back to his cell? Given your previous record, that is, ah, highly doubtful..."

He trailed off in a threatening hiss and for the first time whirled around to face Keith. His hair spun around him in a circle, his coat flew, and his eyes - golden, narrow, slitted - burned with undisguised malice and ferocity. A true Wraith. It took all the effort Keith could muster to keep standing; the combined power of his superior's glare and the fury emanating from his mind threatened to bring him to his knees.

_Weak, _Keith told himself furiously. _Weak, and pathetic_... But he wasn't sure if it was himself thinking this, or Later projecting his mind into his.

"You are attracted to him," Later said. "You are attracted to a _human."_

"N - no - I am _not _- " Keith protested, but even as he spoke he knew his denial wasn't true. A panicked whirl of images flashed through his mind: John Sheppard smiling languidly; John Sheppard, weakened and gray-haired after a feeding; John Sheppard, holding Keith with warm strong hands; John Sheppard, fierce determination flashing in his hazel eyes as he declared that he was going to escape...

More images, coming quicker, more frequently, no longer of Sheppard but of himself. He was a child, still dark-haired and pale-skinned and too young to feed, wistfully watching a group of frolicking human children in the distance while his Wraith brethren played at hunting humans behind him. Then he was an adolescent who had first experienced that overpowering, terrible urge to feed, standing over a miserable human - a boy not much older than himself. His brood-mates had already fed, had looked forward to the experience for months and enjoyed it when it finally happened...but he had dreaded it, and finally the moment had come and his mind and body were warring. The part of him that sympathized with humans - and secretly envied them - and his base instincts battled for control; at long last the hunger had won and he had slammed his hand over the chest of the human boy, sucked in the sweet energy that he as a Wraith so desperately craved...

And then he was a scientist, sorted into the lowliest task of researching humans, by a Queen who saw no better use for such a weakling. It had been a wish come true for Keith - now he had a legitimate reason to daily interact with humans. But there was no denying the fear that flashed in their eyes when they regarded him, nor how they scampered whenever he approached, nor how they stuttered and and looked for avenues of escape when he tried to talk to them, no matter how gentle a tone he took...

Then there was a human, a young man who Keith remembered for his eyes, eyes as vibrant green as the tree leaves in midsummer. This young man had been taken prisoner by the Wraith and tortured, and then sent to Keith for research purposes. He had been different, not afraid - instead he had fought like an animal, spitting hatred and abuse upon Keith. Keith found it enthralling: at long last there was a human who didn't run, who wasn't afraid...

Gradually, Keith won the human's trust through gentle words and little gifts - the young man was particularly partial to greenish-purple berda nuts, and so Keith spent painstaking hours every morning collecting them. The young man no longer spat and snarled every time Keith tried to speak to him; instead, he began to talk. He spoke of his life in the village, of the boy he had held dear to his heart, of his friends and parents and family. His name was Luka and he was nineteen - the same age as Keith at the time - and one of his village's best warriors. His entire village had been culled except for him, and he spoke with anger at those who had done it, with grief and self-hatred at having been unable to stop it.

Hearing Luka speak intoxicated Keith. He wanted to know so much, so much _more_...it seemed that the human could never tell him enough. One day, he finally did something that he had never done before, because he was not supposed to for the purposes of scientific objectivity - he entered the prisoner's cell and made physical contact with him. He still remembered it, every instant. Luka's skin was so vulnerable and soft, but nicely warm. He sensed Luka's initial fear and nervousness, but then that had died down, replaced by something else - content? - and then Luka touched him. Touched him like nobody had touched him before. He hadn't hit or manhandled, he reached out a sun-browned hand and brushed the hair out of Keith's eyes, hair that Keith hadn't realized was there because he'd hid behind it for so long...

_"You should keep your hair out of your eyes," _Luka said, smiling gently. _"You look better this way."_

Keith stood there, unable to say anything, arrested by a cold surprise, aware that his heart was pounding at a vicious rate. And then Luka leaned forward and pressed his lips to Keith's. It was brief, barely a touching of lips, and Luka pulled away and smiled at him in a way that Keith realized now reminded him very much of Colonel Sheppard. Keith stared back, not knowing what he should do, although he recognized the meaning of Luka's actions. And since he couldn't think of any better response, Keith took hold of the front of Luka's shirt and kissed him again.

What a fool he had been to think that he could have hidden that incident from his superiors. The next time saw Luka, Luka was on the floor before the Queen of Keith's hive, and Keith was standing above Luka's crumpled form.

_"Do it. You are Wraith. Feed on him," _the Queen commanded.

It still felt like a dream. He saw himself, shaking and desperate, but unable to loosen the Queen's grip on his mind, lift his hand. Luka stared at him, his eyes beseeching, oh those beautiful green eyes that stabbed at Keith's heart like twin daggers, and his conscience screamed, _Stop! You must stop! _But he had been unable to. His instincts and the Queen's influence were too strong. Hating himself, hating his weakness, he slammed his hand upon Luka's chest and drained away the life of the human who had kissed him and talked with him and smiled at him...

When the memories at last faded, when the vision of Luka's pained green eyes finally ebbed away, Keith found himself on his knees on the floor and Later loomed above him.

"Do you see now, boy?" Later snarled. "I thought you would have learned the first time around. Instead, here you are again taking sexual interest in a mere human. Will nothing teach you?"

"N-no, it isn't - it's not sexual_," _Keith whispered.

"Say what you will, silly brat," Later said. "Evidently, since there is no conceivable way that you could ever mate with the Queen, you have decided to satisfy your energies in a different manner. Choosing the lowest of the low. Humans. _Food. _Nothing, _nothing _more speaks of how utterly pathetic you are."

"No..." Keith shook his head, though he had no idea what he was denying. _It's not sexual, my interest in Colonel Sheppard _isn't _sexual! It's something else, it's - _

An unbidden memory rose of Colonel Sheppard coldly mocking the idea that Keith had fallen in love with him. _It's called a crush_, _what you have. Not love. _It took all his effort to crush that memory.

"Pathetic, pathetic, _pathetic _boy," Later spat, now pacing circles around Keith's prone form. "If I could I would request the same punishment again - have you feed on your little 'lover' Colonel Sheppard. Unfortunately, Sheppard is far too valuable to us now. But perhaps, later...yes...when we invade Atlantis, you shall have the sole honor of feeding on Colonel Sheppard, and his friends as well...Dr. McKay, Dr. Weir, all of them..."

"Please, no." A spasm of horror shot through him - along with another, more foolish thought. _You will not succeed. Colonel Sheppard will escape before you force him to betray his people._

He tried to retract it but Later had already sensed it. He whirled around and before Keith could process what had happened, a large clawed hand snatched him by the front of the coat and slammed him into the wall with a jarring impact. Winded, fearful, Keith met the gaze of his superior. Later's eyes were narrowed, his mouth twisted in an unpleasant snarl.

"_You are a fool," _Later growled, grinding Keith deeper into the wall. "Evidently, your assocation with Colonel Sheppard has begun to corrupt you dangerously. From this point onward, you are forbidden from contacting Colonel Sheppard, in any way, shape, or form...and believe me, I will know if you have defied me. _Is that perfectly clear?"_

"Y...yes, yes, it is," Keith gasped. Later shook him violently - his head spun - before releasing him. The young Wraith slid to the ground in a trembling heap, his coat spreading in a circle around him. Displeased by his underling's weakness, Later whirled around and raked his face with his claws, drawing four lines of dark blood. Keith gasped and staggered, clutching his injured face. He didn't dare look at his superior.

"Your injuries aren't healing?" Later frowned, but when he continued his voice was silky. "You are not regenerating as you should, it seems...perhaps it would be a good idea for you to feed soon..."

With that, he turned brusquely away from the young Wraith huddled on the floor and marched out of the room. Keith remained where he was, clamping a hand over his injuries to suppress the bleeding, his body shaking from shame and fear and self-loathing.

_I am weak. So...so weak...I'm sorry, Colonel Sheppard...you deserve better help, you deserve someone much stronger and more useful than _me_...I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_..._

_

* * *

_

Emo!Keith stays, since apparently you all like him that way. Then again, so do I.

Please do review.


	8. Preparations

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Eight: Preparations_

Not much has been changed, except for some much-needed prose cleanups. The nature of the feeding scene has been changed a little, too, though not that drastically.

I forgot to mention the timeline in the last chapter, so I'll clear it up now: during the events of the last chapter, it was the sixth day of Sheppard's imprisonment and there was no Atlantis (but it was later in the day for Atlantis, around afternoon). In this chapter, it's the seventh day of Sheppard's imprisonment and evening/night of the second day for Atlantis.

* * *

"Hey, you."

The prisoner Schebner did not look up. He maintained the same position he'd been in for the past hour - his head lolling back, his arms dangling by his sides, his legs outstretched on the bench. It wasn't hard to see him as asleep, but his eyes were wide open and staring blankly ahead.

Ronon growled and tapped his foot on the floor "You. You can hear me, can't you?"

This didn't receive a response. Schebner didn't seem to have heard his words, even though Ronon was talking loudly. He folded his arms and fixed the prisoner with his best death glare, but Schebner didn't appear perturbed by it. He wasn't even looking at Ronon.

"Damn it, you!" Ronon exploded. This blank-eyed man, this Wraith worshipper - Ronon _knew _that he knew where Sheppard was. But Schebner hadn't spoken a single helpful word since he'd been captured by the Atlantis team.

McKay and Weir were convinced that Schebner was insane and wasn't going to give them any useful information and everything that he did say was a lie. But Ronon knew better. He'd heard Schebner talk to the other guards, and he had sounded perfectly lucid; smug, even, as he described overhearing the Wraith's conversations about their prisoner. Schebner knew _everything; _he was faking his insanity so he could drive the Atlantis expedition up the wall.

_The son of a bitch has everying we want. He's getting his kicks keeping it from us._

"Listen, you," Ronon snarled, leaning forward so that his face was only inches from the bars. This time he actually got a reaction from Schebner, who turned his head in Ronon's direction. The expression on his face, however, was one of bored disinterest.

"Don't bother pretending anymore," Ronon continued, , "'cause I can see right through your act. You don't have any reason to hide what you know anymore - your _masters _aren't going to help you now."

He infused that word with all the digust he could muster, which as a bottomless amount. Even more than the Wraith themselves, Ronon loathed those cowardly humans who pledged themselves to the Wraith just so they could save their own hides. He wished that he could blast the damned Wraith worshipper's head off that very moment, but he had a feeling Weir wouldn't approve. Besides, while dead men did tell no lies, that was because they couldn't speak at all_. _A dead Schebner was a useless Schebner.

Much to Ronon's surprise (though he didn't let it show), Schebner responded - he fixed Ronon wiht a blank-eyed stare for a fraction of a second. The next moment a quivering grin cut across his pale face and then he began to giggle. That same high-pitched giggle which made Ronon's blood boil and caused the marine guarding the cell to jump in surprise.

"Heh he he heh heeeeeee..." Finally Schebner's infernal giggles died out, good thing too because Ronon's hand had reached his gun. None of the insane amusement had left the prisoner's face, however. "Heeee heee...oh, you have no idea, _Runner. _You have no idea."

A pause, during which Ronon glared at Schebner and Schebner's mad smile did not abate - if anything, it widened.

"They'll come. Oh, _they will come. _For me - for Schebner, oh, the Wraith will bend over backwards for me! Hee heee hee hee!"

The only proper response was a glare, which Ronon supplied in spades. The hand resting on the gun twitched.

* * *

At first Sheppard was only aware of aching. A pounding ache somewhere deep inside the recesses of his skull. Someties it was a sharp pulse of agony from the back of his head, but other times it was a regular throb in the soft folds of his brain. He drifted along the familiar pain, letting it become his world. Not a comfortable world, but it was all he had and all he'd cling to.

One by one his other senses returned. With them came greater pains. The dim throbbing receded, but only because other pains - more numerous, more intense - came into sharp focus. His limbs felt immovable, weights veined with lead. His joints screamed with a hundred tiny pains. His eyeballs burned behind tightly shut lids.

And his heart. _Damn. _The aching in his head was nothing compared to the agony that burned in his chest. Like a dozen flaming knives were hacking at the tender muscle simultaneously. He would have groaned if he could have but his throat seemed frozen. Probably for the better. Speaking would only intensify his pain...

_Where am I? What...what's happened to me? Damn, I can't think... Come on, get your thoughts together_, _John. Yeah, that's right, your name is John Sheppard. Now, now, where the hell _are _you and why do you hurt so damn badly?_ _Let's think..._

A blur of black and white! A swirling dark coat, wild white hair whipping around the taunting, death-like face of a...a Wraith. A tall, goateed Wraith.

_Later. _That was right. The pieces of Sheppard's numb, throbbing thoughts were coming together. Later...Later was the sneering Wraith who had fed on Sheppard while ordering him to work the weapon, the weapon he was going to have him use to defeat Atlantis. How long ago had that been? A day ago? Two? Sheppard couldn't remember.

There was another Wraith, though. One who had stood up for Sheppard, one who had brought him food and clothes, who had nursed him to health when he was sick. A young Wraith with wide, moon-like eyes and an innocent aura. A Wraith who had stubbornly told Sheppard that there was no escape, a Wraith who had hugged him and said he loved him, and later snarled that he hated Sheppard but really didn't...

_Keith. _

The last time Sheppard had seen Keith, he and Keith had been discussing tactics for escape, but they hadn't really gotten anywhere because...because..._think, John!_...because Keith had left. Yes, he'd left. But why?Out of the dim, weary haze of his mind Sheppard dragged forth a memory of Keith clutching his head and staggering away, saying that he was being summoned...

Oh, shit. Summoned.

In an instant Sheppard's pain meant nothing at all. It hadn't disappeared but it became inconsequential compared to everything else. Compared to _Keith. _He bolted upright and blinked his eyes, clearing the haze of sleep from them. His surroundings grew clearer - the dark, cobwebby walls of a Wraith prison cell.

There was a Wraith outside the bars. But it wasn't Keith or Later - it was a silent, masked drone, clutching a long stunner. The message it was sending couldn't be clearer.

Sheppard's thoughts raced. _Oh, damn!_ _Later and Keith, Later and Keith..._Later _must have been the one who summoned him! Oh damn damn damn DAMN!_

On Keith and Later's previous encounter, Later had hit Keith and berated him. Who knew what he would do now?

Dimly, Sheppard realized that he'd made a mistake. Telling Keith his plans to escape, _involving _Keith. No matter how kind or helpful Keith was, he was still a Wraith. He was still connected to their telepathic network!Gnashing his teeth in rage, Sheppard remembered Keith telling him about the network not too long ago - the primary form of communication among Wraith.

_Later knows. Later knows that I'm going to escape, and worse, he knows my plan for it._

Like hell he does! a more cynical part of Sheppard snapped. First of all, that's one hell of a plan you two have put together, and when I say that I mean it's not a plan at all! Second, he already caught you trying to escape, genius!

Well, that explained the guard. _And _the lethargy - Sheppard vaguely remembered Keith saying something about drugging before he took off. Later seemed to have decided to circumvent the issue of Sheppard starving himself by shooting sedatives through the cell's ventilation system. Whatever the sedatives were, they'd worked, if the aching tug of sleep still ahold of Sheppard was anything to go by. With a flash of terror Sheppard wondered how long he'd been asleep.

The last time Later had drugged him through the air, Sheppard had slept for a day. This time, how long had he slept? A day, two, three - or an entire week?

Again doubt knifed through him. The familiar doubt - _Why hasn't Elizabeth already sent a team to rescue me? _It had been days, practically a week - if not more. Why hadn't he received so much as a peep from or about Atlantis?

He forced himself to quell his doubts, though that took tremendous effort. He could demand answers to their slowness when he escaped and made it back...

Ha ha! laughed his sardonic self. Like you're going to escape anytime soon in _your _condition!

_Oh, shut up, _he snarled to that sardonic voice. _I'm getting the hell out of here, who cares what you say._

Oh, I supppose it doesn't matter that you don't have a plan? _Nope, none at all. I'm not worried. I'm perfectly fine. _You know what, even Rodney's a better liar than that. Look at you - you're practically dead! _No way I'm not. I can do this. I'm just tired is all. Wait until the sedative wears off... _Whatever, you've got to be insane. Even if the sedative wears off, you're still not in the best of conditions. Just how many times did Later feed on you? _Yeah, yeah - _

By this point, Sheppard decided that the safe - and sane - thing to do was end this internal conversation. Had he become so cracked he'd started fighting with himself?He clutched his aching head and grumbled, trying to anchor himself, "All right, that's enough..."

The guard turned sharply in Sheppard's direction but did nothing else. Sheppard was surprised the guard had even _heard _him...Sheppard had barely heard his own voice over the infernal pounding in his head. He'd barely been able to force the words out - they came out weak, and terribly hoarse, little more than a pained whisper. He simply couldn't seem to get his vocal cords to work.

And he expected to escape like this? No matter what he doggedly maintained, there was no conceivable way. He couldn't even stand (well, he hadn't tried yet...and didn't much want to). How could he overpower dozens of Wraith and dash out of their base into a snowy forest? Sheppard had done much defying of the impossible, but even this seemed too much.

Not to mention, there was the issue of Keith. He and Keith had been formulating an escape plan (_ha, some "plan"_) together. Sheppard had sworn to take Keith with him, and he couldn't if Keith wasn't here. Just where had Keith gone? Well, _that _was easy. He'd been summoned by Later. And once Later found out about their desire to escape together...

_Could Later have possibly killed Keith?_

This was such a horrible thought that Sheppard revolted against it the instant it rose from his mind. No, no, _no. _Keith was alive, he had to be alive. He couldn't be dead because of Sheppard. In a dim way, Sheppard wondered why he was getting so worked up for the (presumed) death of a Wraith. Usually, he was the one killing them! The more Wraith who died, the better...but Keith was different.

"_I thought that you would be different," _whispered Keith's voice, almost mocking, in his ears. For a moment he forgot to breathe. Not just stunned by Keith's harsh words, but by the thought that he might never hear Keith's soft tones again.

Maybe Sheppard couldn't bring himself to be different...but Keith _was. _And if he was dead because of Sheppard, then...

Sheppard knew that he could never live it down.

"Damn it," he groaned aloud. Once more the masked guard shot him a sharp look. Ignoring the guard, Sheppard sank against the wall of the cell and buried his face as in his knees, much as Keith had done not too long ago, and hoped with all of his heart and mind that the young Wraith who had helped him so much was still alive and well.

* * *

As Sheppard cursed himself for possibly causing Keith's death, said Keith prowled through the dark halls of the Wraith base. He was perfectly alive, but it would be a stretch to describe him as "well." He kept his head bowed, his hair obscuring his face as it usually did, which had the added benefit of hiding the four long, dark slashes on his face that, despite having been inflicted about a day ago, had yet to heal.

Later had spoken the truth. Keith needed to feed.

The hunger burned and licked at his insides like a fire. An all-too-familiar sensation for Keith, one detested by all Wraith but rarely endured. Most fed long before they could suffer such crippling hunger, but for Keith, the hunger came along with the life he had chosen. He knew he was a Wraith, and because of that he had to feed on humans to survive. It was a truth he'd already accepted - like it or not, he could not change what he was.

So instead, he'd made a compromise. He would only feed when it was a question of life or death. When the hunger became so terrible that he couldn't stand, let alone think straight - that was when he would give into his bestial urges. Even so, he could never bear to make eye contact with his victims, not like many of his brethren - Later included - who enjoyed tormenting their prey as they drained them.

His current hunger had not reached that unbearable point, when if he went one more day without feeding he would most certainly die. Keith had taken to delaying to that point after he'd been forced to kill Luka. Now, though, his steady strides carried him closer to the base catacombs, where humans were held as a constant food supply for the Wraith personnel. Strictly speaking he did not need to feed, so why this sudden breach in his standards?

Colonel Sheppard had spoken of escape. He had spoken of a plan that Keith realized had the slightest chance of working - but a slight chance was better than no chance at all.

The plan would only work if Keith did his part.

He tried to justify it to himself. This was for Colonel Sheppard, and Colonel Sheppard was part of the Atlantis expedition which helped all humans in the Pegasus Galaxy, and in the grand scheme of things a single life taken wasn't worth much. He repeated his justifications in the tiny, secret corner of his mind to which he already retreated when he wanted to escape the fearsome presence of Later or his Queen.

It still didn't stop his conscience from squirming at this violation of the standard of ethics he had written for himself long ago. As much as a Wraith in a galaxy of humans could have ethics, of course.

Much to his relief, the catacombs were devoid of Wraith save the usual drone guards, who let him through with curt nods. Keith knew that he couldn't take it if someone else was feeding at the same time. He'd lose his resolve and scamper like the coward he was.

Like always, there was a group of humans huddled together behind the bars of their prison. The standard practice was to keep humans in cocoons - but Later had always been something of a deviant. He believed that keeping the humans conscious and behind bars made their "flavor" all the sweeter, in his words. Keith - and many other Wraith on the base - disagreed with this philosophy, but could do nothing about it since Later was their leader. And since their Queen didn't seem to mind the practice, it persisted.

The instant Keith entered the room, the humans reacted - most of them screamed or moaned in terror and tried to make themselves small against the walls of their cell. A few protested, throwing empty threats and curses in high-pitched, shivering voices. But all of their eyes shimmered with fear.

_I am Wraith. I must feed. _Keith began to chant the mental mantra he had developed long ago for these occasions, although he felt it prudent to add a few additional words to it for _this _occasion. _I must do this for Lt. Colonel John Sheppard. If he is to have any hope of escape, I must help him. The greatest way I can help is to do this._

Keith paced back and forth before the bars, peering into the cell with the eye unobscured by the curtain of hair blocking his face. The prisoners were a motley bunch_ - _women, children, men, the elderly, the infirm. Many came from surrounding villages or had been taken from the base's village for defying the Wraith.

"Please, please - _please_ - please, spare me, O Lord Wraith, spare me - " begged one timy woman, clasping her hands together so tightly her knuckles her white.

"Damn you, I'm not afraid of you, monster!" growled a burly man, though he had pressed himself to the wall and was trying not to look at Keith directly.

An old man coughed and choked and grabbed at his chest - he looked like he was having a heart attack. Keith chose not to spare him a second glance. The old and infirm were of no use to Wraith. All right in a pinch, but they offered only a sputter of life, and less nourishing life at that.

After pacing for what felt like fifteen minutes, Keith made his decision. He squared his shoulders, brushed the hair out of his eyes, and pointed to a scraggly bearded him.

"Bring him," he said to the drone guards.

One of the drones marched to the cell door, which lifted. Only fear and the stunner clutched in the drone's hands prevented the people from escaping. The man Keith had chosen stumbled backwards and stammered, but the drone snatched him by the arm and shoved him out of the cell. As quickly as they had lifted, the bars closed.

"No, no, no, why me, why me, not now - " It took all of Keith's efforts to block out his pathetic groans. He stood back and examined the man in as detached a manner as he could. From what he'd heard from the other prisoners, the man was a drunkard and small-time thief. Not crimes deserving of the death penalty, but it was better him than the other perfectly innocent people behind the bars.

_I must do this for Colonel Sheppard. I am doing this to help him, _Keith told himself. He took one step, then two, then three, until he was directly in front of his victim. The man, on his knees before Keith, trembled. His face was gray and his eyes huge.

"No, no, why me, why me, why _me?"  
_

His voice rose and cracked at the end. Keith's resolve shuddered but did not snap. He lifted his hand and held it above the man's heaving chest - and paused.

If this were a normal feeding, he'd have already begun draining the man's life force. It was best to get unpleasant matters over with as soon as possible. But something held Keith's hand back, and when he gazed at the man he didn't see Luka, but Colonel Sheppard. Colonel Sheppard gazing at him with fierce determination and telling him that they would escape. And for the first time, he spoke to one of his victims.

"I am very sorry. But I must."

Keith didn't break with his standard procedure completely. As he slammed his hand upon the man's chest and his feeding organ clamped over the man's heart, he turned away and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. The words _Colonel Sheppard, Colonel Sheppard, for you, Colonel Sheppard, for you and only you _rang in his ears, blocking out his victim's screams.

It seemed to take an eternity to sate Keith's hunger. Finally, he tore himself away when the man was nothing but an empty husk. His head was spinning and his mouth had fallen open in a snarl - despite his best efforts he gave in to acting like a typical Wraith during the blank buzz of a feeding. It made sense, given how primal the experience was. A feeding was pure instinct - the exhilarating rush of energy flowing through him, the victim's mindless agony. Mostly all he could was close his eyes and block it out. He didn't dare open his eyes until the sound of the drones dragging the corpse away faded away.

Ever since Luka, Keith had never looked a victim in the eye. If he made eye contact with his victims, whether they be male or female, young or old, he knew that he would see not their terrified gazes but Luka's. Luka's summer-green eyes begging him not to, saying without words that he _knew _Keith was above this... What a lie that had been.

The prisoners huddled even tighter together, throwing arms around each other and turning their backs to Keith. They did this every time after a feeding - communal mourning. Or perhaps a show of solidarity. Keith watched them sadly for a moment before spinning around and marching resolutely up to the base's higher levels.

Now that he had fed, he was on a tight schedule. He had many preparations that he needed to take care of and he had to go about them as quickly and stealthily as possible. Sooner or later, his superior was going to catch wind...

And Keith preferred that Later find out, well, _later._

* * *

"Hey, how much do they pay you to do this?" Sheppard said. "I mean, it can't be much. All you're doing is standing around looking intimidating."

The drone was not polite enough to grace Sheppard with an answer. It turned towards him, shifting its stunner, and glared at him. Well, Sheppard couldn't be sure it was glaring since it was face was covered by that mask. For all he knew, it could be cracking a huge Ronald McDonald grin.

But for some reason, Sheppard was more inclined to think that it was glaring.

"Well, big guy?" he continued. Some time had passed - maybe several hours - since he'd woken up. He felt considerably better now than he had then: his headache was still there, but it had diminished, and at least he could move, though he didn't feel up to standing. At least he could talk, though his voice was rather more hoarse than it had been earlier.

The pain over his heart refused to diminish. Somehow, that bothered Sheppard less than it should have; after almost a week he'd grown accustomed to the constant stabbing, burning sensation. Now that the other pains had quieted down, he could easily handle the pain from the feedings. Every heartbeat felt like a knife being driven through his chest, but hey...he could handle it.

What was more disquieting was his hunger. His stomach felt like it was gnawing on itself and it was emitting the same noises it had during his enforced fast. That fast had been broken when Keith started supplying him with food, but all of Keith's food - which he'd kept wrapped in his old uniform in the corner of the cell - had mysteriously vanished while he was asleep.

No food in the form of the greenish-white slop arrived, either. It seemed Later no longer cared about Sheppard's welfare and was content to let the good colonel starve to death. Or maybe he was just running low on slop supplies; Sheppard didn't know.

Sheppard's stomach gave a squirm that had nothing to do with hunger. _Keith_. He'd been awake for hours and there'd been sign of the young Wraith. Hell, he'd even tried asking the drone about Keith, but he might as well have been talking to a wall.

_Is Keith dead? _Another guilty squirm. _No, he can't be dead. He can't be, he can't be, if he is it's my fault..._

Once upon another lifetime, Rodney had shown Sheppard an article he'd clipped from a popular science magazine. The article claimed (in a very _The Secret_-like vein) that there was scientific proof for the power of thinking; if you directed all of your "mental energies" onto a single focus, that focus - whether a wish, or a curse, or a thought about somebody - would come true sooner or later. Rodney had switched back and forth between chortling at the writers' ignorance and howling about the "scientific" method used to "prove" such a thing. Sheppard had just smiled and indulged Rodney on this count. One of Rodney's favorite hobbies was tearing apart inaccurate articles in popular science magazines.

The reason Sheppard's thoughts turned to this particular incident was simple - it was just as Keith had crossed his mind, a very familiar figure rounded the corner of the hall and approached his cell.

Sheppard was so surprised that he forgot his body's multiple grievances and leapt to his feet. He even managed to stumble to the bars of the cell, calling out, "What the hell? _Keith_? What are you - "

But before Keith could move to the bars so he could speak properly with Sheppard, the drone stepped in front of him. It said nothing, but its intent was clear - especially when it lifted its stunner and pointed it at the thin, delicately-built Wraith in front of it.

"Hey, whoa!" Sheppard cried. Keith backed down a few steps and gulped and swallowed, but he handled it better than Sheppard did. Straightening to his full height (which wasn't much), he faced the drone and spoke, his voice soft but penetrating and insistent.

"Let me through."

The drone stepped forward. Sheppard thought of putting in a word on Keith's behalf, but Keith had already taken action. He fixed the drone with a fiercely stubborn look, unlike any Sheppard had seen from him, and said, "You _will _let me through. I _insist."_

Something slammed violently against Sheppard's ribcage - it took him a few seconds to realize that it was his heart. He'd never seen the soft-spoken Keith like this before. So fierce and intent and focused on only one thing - getting past the drone.

The colonel's respect for Keith rose about ten notches.

Keith's conviction most have affected the drone as well, because it backed down - one step, then two and three - and lowered its stunner and turned around. Saying without words that it would not bother Keith.

"Pretty cool," Sheppard said when the bars opened and Keith stepped inside.

Much to Sheppard's disappointment, Keith didn't say thank you or laugh. Instead, he fixed Sheppard with a ferocious glare. Sheppard shouldn't have been surprised - Keith had glared at him enough times for him to get used to it. But this glare punched at his gut. It was fiercer, more...agitated.

"Keith...?" Sheppard said.

"Hurry, John, we don't have much time," Keith said. "I - I bought us a little time with that but I don't think it will last for very long. I think he - Later - already suspects something and - "

"Wait a minute Keith, slow down, kid!" Sheppard shouted. "Just why are you in such a hurry? What's Later suspect?"

"Shut up, John!" The sharpness of the order was enough to startle him into silence. He could only stare at Keith, wondering if the world had turned upside down, but that starting turned into action when Keith's hands flew to the front of his coat and began opening it...

"Slow down! Hey!" Without thinking, Sheppard's hands shot out to encircle Keith's wrist. Much to his surprise, Keith tried to throw his grip off but that just made Sheppard cling tighter. Keith snarled - a startlingly Wraith-like sound coming from him.

"Damn _it, _John! Let go of me!"

Sheppard obliged, sensing that if Keith was acting like this it was best not to argue. Surely Keith would explain in due time. Or maybe not, since the instant Sheppard released his grip Keith immediately went back to opening his coat.

"Hey, hey! Keith - _stop _that! Sorry, but - I already said I didn't love you and I don't want to - "

"_Love? _What do my feelings for you have anything to do with this! No - _I said shut up! _Here!" Sheppard didn't have time to blink before he found a stunner pressed into his hands.

Sheppard stared for a long time at the weapon, uncomprehending. When he looked back at Keith, he saw that the Wraith had pulled a stunner of his own out of his coat. Keith fixed him with a grim smile and finally it all fell into place.

"I see," he said "I see...well, then. It's about time, I'd say!"

He tried to stand up but his legs buckled and he sagged towards the ground. Keith dove forward to catch him, wrapping his thin arms around Sheppard's torso. The colonel was in too much shock to care that a Wraith was touching him. The instant it seemed that Sheppard was no longer in danger of falling, Keith released him - for that Sheppard was grateful.

And Keith was back inside his coat, this time pulling out something folded and black that he hurled straight at Sheppard. Sheppard caught it, but his surprise and the force of the throw knocked him off balance; he threw out an arm to catch himself on the wall before he hit the floor.

"Whoa there, Keith! Be careful, will ya? And what is this?"

"A coat," said Keith. He was glancing around back and forth, his expression agitated. "It's not much, but - hurry - hurry - put it on - we don't have much time - "

"_Hold on a damned second!" _This was too much, too fast. First of all, Keith was alive, which Sheppard supposed was a good thing, but now he wanted to escape! Which again was a good thing but all the same, would it kill Keith to slow down? Maybe the Wraith had gotten weapons and outerwear for Sheppard but he'd yet to take care of the undeniable fact that would dash all their hopes of escaping.

Simply put, Sheppard was not in the best of conditions. He was old, wrinkled, half-drugged, and aching all over Even if everything else fell in their favor (which was highly unlikely) Sheppard doubted they'd get far with him the way he was.

Funny how their roles had reversed. Just yesterday Keith had been the negative nancy.

"No, I will _not _hold on!" Keith shouted. "Later, he knows, he's coming - _damn it John, put the coat on_ - please, hurry, this is our only chance, don't just stand there like an idiot, please - _John!"_

Sheppard supposed he should have expected the slap - or rather, slaps, since Keith hit him twice, once across each cheek. If he was he in Keith's situation, he'd have done the same thing. After all, there was a limit to how long he could stand around like a very confused stiff.

"Damn, you hit hard," Sheppard said, rubbing his stinging face. "Well, thanks. I guess I deserved that."

"Yes, you did," Keith said. "Now put the coat on. Hurry, we're running out of time."

"All right, all right, _Keith." _Sheppard let his exasperation towards Keith show, but it was an endearing kind of feeling. He unfolded the the black bundle Keith had lobbed at him, revealing that it was a leathery, high-collared Wraith coat. His stomach recoiled at the thought of dressing like a Wraith, but his logic couldn't deny that it would keep him warmer than his torn and stained gray clothes. He stuck his arm into the sleeve. It seemed a bit big for him, maybe Later's size.

Had Keith just raided his superior's wardrobe? The thought made Sheppard grin, but the grin was wiped from his face when Keith let out an agonized moan and clutched his head.

"Hurry, oh _hurry, _he's coming, he's _coming_ - "

"Okay, Keith," Sheppard said, annoyed. The blows had cleared the worst of the haze from his mind, but he couldn't help but feel like this was too much too fast. Not to mention Keith was neglecting a crucial part of their plan. "Look, glad to see you're all for escaping now, but - "

"John, I don't have time for - " Keith began, but Sheppard rudely interrupted.

"Aren't you forgetting something? Look at me, Keith, how am I going to escape like this! Hello, ever heard of something called the - "

Keith continued the interrupting game. "The 'Gift of Life', I know_. _Unfortunately, John, we don't have the luxury of time_. _I'll do it the instant we get out of here, I promise you - but now - oh, _no - "_

"Keith - " Sheppard wanted to argue some more, but his voice was cut off when he realized that Keith had stiffened as if someone had poured ice cubes down his collar, and his eyes were huge and he was shaking in unmistakable terror.

Slowly, though it was the last thing he wanted, Sheppard turned the same direction that Keith was staring.

Tall, stroking his goatee, an insidious smirk cutting his face in two, Later strode confidently down the hall. He was surrounded by a veritable platoon of drones; Sheppard couldn't believe that he hadn't heard their thunderous stomping earlier, but then he realized they were marching to the same beat as the thudding of his heart. He'd mistaken their approach for the intensifying of his heartbeat.

Keith and Sheppard stood together, black-coated, stunners in hand. When they met Later's eyes it was as one. The Wraith's golden slits narrowed in sadistic delight.

"Well, well," he said. "_What _do we have here?"

_

* * *

_

Hahaha, Keith didn't originally raid Later's wardrobe. Perhaps that's why Later's so pissed.

Please do review.


	9. Escape

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Nine: Escape_

One of the most rewritten chapters. I realized midway through the rewrite that there was a very glaring plot hole, which I hope I took care of in a satisfactory manner. The ramifications of what happened will be touched on in future chapters, don't worry. It's not really a deus ex machina...or at least I hope it isn't. Much of the action has been cleaned up, I hope. I don't know, I still suck at writing action scenes.

Much of the escape scene was written to "Libera Me From Hell," the most amazing song from the anime _Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, _which has a lot of amazing music. DO THE IMPOSSIBLE, SEE THE INVISIBLE, ROW ROW FIGHT THE POWER! TOUCH THE UNTOUCHABLE, BREAK THE UNBREAKABLE, ROW ROW FIGHT THE POWER! Good times.

* * *

The first coherent thought that floated into Colonel Sheppard's brain was, _Crap._

Not a particularly sophisicated thought, but it summed up his situation perfectly. Nothing could be crappier than this. Him and Keith, armed with a single pistol-sized stunner each, while Later stood before them with an entire armed platoon on his side. It didn't take a genius to figure out who the odds favored.

Sheppard glared at Later since it was the only thing he could do. He was still clutching the stunner life a lifeline, and he realized he'd aimed it straight at Later's chest. Keith was aiming his stunner at the same place, but his arm was shaking too badly for him to get an accurate shot. Reluctantly, Sheppard moved his attention from Keith to focus on Later. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a caged tiger trying to escape.

"Now, just what do you think you're doing, Colonel Sheppard?" Later said. "Are you playacting with your little friend? Dressing like Wraith, and with a weapon, too..."

Sheppard tried to think of a witty reply but no words came out of his constricted throat. He tightened his grip on the stunner; his palms were slick with sweat. What were the chances...was the element of surprise enough...

If Later was disappointed that Sheppard hadn't replied, he didn't show it. Instead, he turned his attention upon Keith. "And _you, _boy. Did I not forbid you from contacting Colonel Sheppard in any way, shape, or form? Yet here you are, with Colonel Sheppard!"

A violent shudder coursed through Keith's body. He now had to grip the stunner with both hands if he wanted to hold it at all, let alone aim it. Later's smirk widened.

"I'd be careful if I were you, boy. You've never fired one of those before, have you?"

Keith flinched as if he had been struck but he continued aiming the stunner at Later even though he could barely keep it straight. Sheppard had to admire Keith's tenacity - the kid had labeled himself a coward, but would a coward risk his life as Keith was doing?

Later regarded Keith with a devilish smile before turning back to Sheppard and extending his hand. Saying without words that he wanted the stunner. Sheppard responded by tightening his grip on the weapon. He didn't know why - the situation was hopeless. He and Keith were outnumbered and outgunned. The logical thing to do was to give up and hope that Later would show mercy on them.

But Sheppard had never been one for logic, and even less so for giving up.

"Hand over your weapon, Colonel Sheppard," Later said silkily. "Hand over your weapon, and no one gets hurt."

Sheppard did nothing of the sort. "What if I don't want to?" he demanded.

"That would be an unwise decision, Colonel Sheppard," said Later smoothly in response. He didn't appear bothered by Sheppard's lack of cooperation. "Now, hand it over."

"I don't think so," Sheppard said. He raised the stunner, weighed the odds one final time head - and fired.

Later was caught completely off guard. His eyes widening to comical extents, he tumbled backwards into the drones behind him and even managed to knock two down. The drones stood uncertainly for a fraction of a second, staring at their fallen leader - but that fraction was long enough.

_"Let's go!" _Sheppard's snatched the astonished Keith by the forearm and barreled through the drones, firing the stunner madly. There was nothing but blind instinct. _Move, keep moving. _He collided into several drones and pushed them aside with his elbows with a sudden exhilarating strength - the same strength that had animated his first escape attempt. But this time the exhilaration was tempered by wild desperation. If he didn't succeed -

By now the drones had caught on as to what was happening and grabbed at Sheppard and Keith - they were at too close a range to use the stunners. One strong hand closed around his wrist - snarling inarticulately, Sheppard slammed the barrel of his stunner into the back of the hand. He heard the crunch of bone and the drone released him. Other drones, though they couldn't fire, were raising their stunners, trying to bash Sheppard with them - Sheppard groaned when one of them clipped his shoulder. He spun his own pistol-sized stunner and jammed it into something solid. A body? No time to think. He fired and was rewarded by a heavy thud.

He finally broke free of the roadblock of drones, panting and sweating and a marvelous bruise spreading across his shoulder. But he'd managed to down a good number of them. Unlike them with their heavy long stun guns, he could fire at point-blank range with his handblaster, and he was certain that he wouldn't hit Keith because he was still clinging to Keith's wrist, dragging the boy behind him. Once he broke free blue stunner fire flashed after him - he zigzagged to try to avoid it.

When he reached the end of the hall, he stopped. The corridors branched into two directions - left and right. His mind sang a song of desperation - if he didn't pick one and pick one fast a stunner bolt was going to hit him. Left or right, left or right - just as the drones all fired their stunners simultaneously, he ducked to the right.

"_John! You're going the wrong way!" _A high-pitched, hysterical shout snapped Sheppard out of his adrenaline-fueled rush. A jerk on the wall and Sheppard was pulled behind a wall. He turned to face the Wraith who had dragged him behind the wall, and saw that Keith's hair was covering half his face - no surprise - but the reproach in his uncovered eye was clear enough.

"Uh, what, sorry?" Sheppard said. A second later he flattened himself against the squishy wall and a stunner bolt missed him by a hair's breadth. His heart was pounding like he'd run a marathon, but the animalistic instinct to keep plunging forward had been snapped out of him.

"You're going the wrong way," Keith said again, his tone somewhat calmer. He pointed down the hall to the left. "The shortest escape is _that _way. I believe I know a route that doesn't have much traffic."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Sheppard yelled. He tore himself from the shelter of the wall, firing over his shoulder at the approaching drones. Out of the corner of his eye he cast one last glance at Later and was inwardly glad that he wasn't anywhere near the Wraith because he doubted he'd be able to control his urge to kick Later _this _time. Given what had happened the last time he'd kicked Later...well, it was best he didn't.

Blue light flashed behind him and he tightened his grip on Keith like a vice and hurled them both to the squishy floor. Grunting, he pulled himself to his knee and spun around and fired off a few shots which took down one drone. There were only two more they fired indiscriminately down the hall; Sheppard had to press himself and Keith to the wall for some cover. He fired at one but his shot missed; he swore.

But then a blue bolt slammed into its chest and spread throughout its body, and it crumpled. Sheppard's heart jumped in surprise, and he slowly turned to stare at Keith. Keith's expression mingled surprise and pride.

"You're not a bad shot," Sheppard said, before firing at the last drone, who was mere feet from them.

He fired at the same time Keith did. Both of their shots hit the drone, who hit the floor with a spectacular thump. Sheppard turned to Keith, indignant.

"Hey, don't go wasting firepower like that - "

"I didn't know you were going to fire," Keith protested.

Sheppard decided to live and let live - he had more important things to think about, anyway. He grabbed Keith and sprinted down the hall, but soon Keith broke ahead of him and was leading him. It was all Sheppard could do to keep up with the Wraith - adrenaline still sustained him, for how long, he didn't know. Already each heartbeat brought with it a stabbing pain and his limbs were growing heavier and heavier. At least Keith seemed to know his way through the labyrinthine halls, so all Sheppard had to was follow Keith's rapidly retreating figure.

"Oh...dammit...Keith..." he groaned as his run slowed into a stumble-hop. "Slow..._down_...will...you?"

Keith didn't just slow down - he came to a sudden sharp stop, his coat swirling around him. "What? No - no, I will _not _slow down, John! We must get out of here, and _fast _- "

"Look_, _Keith, I'm running out of energy and honestly, this route doesn't seem so short to me - look out!"

Sheppard managed to draw his stunner and shoot the Wraith that had just rounded the corner. The Wraith tumbled over with a stupid flummoxed look on his face.

"Come on, let's go!" Sheppard yelled. Suddenly his body didn't seem to ache so much. The sooner they got out of here the better; they would only encounter more Wraith inside the facility. "Let's go, get a move on!"

Keith threw him an exasperated glance but then dashed ahead of him - after all, he was the one who knew where they were going. Once more, Sheppard tore after Keith through hall after hall. To Sheppard's relief, they didn't encounter many Wraith - just a passing few that they shot down before the Wraith got a chance to blink. It seemed Keith had been right when he'd said this route didn't receive much traffic.

"_Damn!" _Keith shouted as a hissing shriek tore through the air. He stopped and spun on the spot, glancing back and forth as if he was looking for something.

"What? What is it?" Sheppard demanded, shouting to be heard over the shriek. Whatever that noise was, it felt like it was slicing his head in half. "Wait a sec - that's not the alarm, is it?"

"Yes," said Keith tightly. "Yes, yes, _yes. _They know - what are you waiting for, John?We're almost out - "

That was all the encouragement Sheppard needed. He sprinted down the hall again as fast as his aching legs could carry him. Soon stronger encouragement arrived - over the throbbing of his head and the shriek of the alarm, the sound of regularly pounding footsteps rose behind them.

They were being chased.

"Here!" Keith cried, suddenly stopping before a dead end. The hall terminated there, with no other twists or turns. Sheppard stood still, disbelief surging through his veins. No, it couldn't just end here...not like this, and why the hell did Keith sound so triumphant?

"Keith - " he began.

"Why are you just standing here?" Keith screamed, and before Sheppard knew what was going on Keith had grabbed him by the arm and the hall opened with a hiss, revealing -

Pure and dazzling. Whiteness.

Just as the pounding steps drowned out even the alarm, Keith and Sheppard together tumbled out of the Wraith base into a flurry of snow.

* * *

It had been so long since Sheppard had seen snow that he'd almost forgotten what it looked and felt like. Now that he was surrounded by miles and miles of cold white softness, he couldn't imagine anything else. The Mediterranean warmth of Atlantis was barely a memory.

When he and Keith had first tumbled into the snow, Sheppard had been so disoriented by the miles and miles of pure white - such a change from the dark, cramped Wraith base - that he couldn't think, couldn't move. He could only lie in the snow that tickled his cheek, a maelstrom of light pressing down upon his eyes. Keith had to yank him up (with incongruous strength for someone as thin and lightly built as him, though Keith was a Wraith) and drag him into a maze of tall evergreens, black against the snow.

Now the two stole their way deeper through the forest. Keith had stunned all the Wraith that had been following them - all except one. Now they kept scanning the horizon for signs of him. Sheppard leaned against a tree, breathing hard. He could barely stand, but at least he wasn't blinded by the light anymore.

But he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He needed his youth and vitality - something only Keith could give him. Right now, they didn't have time to stop, preoccupied as they were with finding their pursuer. Not to mention, Sheppard didn't even know if Keith was going to give his life back. Keith had said that he needed to feed on someone else to give the Gift of Life, a notion that was "disasteful" to him.

"Any sign of anyone?" Sheppard said. Through the coat, the bark of the tree was rough and slippery. It felt nice.

"No," Keith said. He was clutching his stunner in both hands, which were shaking badly, and he kept glancing back and forth like a spooked horse.

"You nervous?" Sheppard said. He suppressed the urge to shiver - the coat was warm, that was true, but the parts that it didn't cover were freezing. His ungloved hands were raw and numb and his nose felt like a block of ice.

Keith shot Sheppard a familiar reproachful look. "No."

"Really?" Sheppard frowned. "But you've never been in a combat situation before, have you?"

"No," said Keith for the third time. "But that does not matter. I - I am not nervous."

_You know, _Rodney's _a better liar than that, _Sheppard thought. Never in a million years would he voice that thought. Keith was being brave enough as it was, risking his life to help Sheppard escape. So what if he was shaking? He didn't need Sheppard to point it out to him.

"Ah - oh, _no." _Keith shook his head again. "The search has just been expanded. They have sent...fifteen drones after us, and three commanders, I believe. In addition, the villagers..." He gulped and swallowed. "The village has been alerted as well. We cannot depend on them for help."

Sheppard had already as much - he was certain the village would be crawling with Wraith worshippers. But Keith seemed hit hard by the news. How had he gotten it? Through the network? Oh, hell, what if he compromised their position?

_"Behind you John!" _In a whirl of black Keith spun and aimed his stunner at some spot over Sheppard's shoulder. Sheppard spun around too, just in time to see a Wraith pointing a handblaster directly at his chest.

"Oh...uh...hey there," Sheppard said.

"Drop your weapon, prisoner_," _the Wraith sneered. "Drop it this instant, or I will shoot."

"Hmm...I don't know..." Sheppard rubbed his chin. "That doesn't sound like a good idea to me."

He'd lifted his own stunner and pointed it at the Wraith. They stared at each other, hazel eyes boring into gold. Eyes blazing with mutual animosity.

"I'm afraid you do not have a choice_, _prisoner," the Wraith said coldly. But then he broke eye contact with Sheppard and his gaze slid to someplace behind the colonel.

"You. Traitor."

Keith. Sheppard didn't dare turn around but he heard a sharp intake of breath and a shuffling noise that might have been Keith stepping back. His heart began pounding again, at a vicious rate.

"Look here, buddy," Sheppard said to the Wraith. "There's two of us and one of you, and we're both armed. _I'd _say the odds are a little stacked against you."

"Silence, prisoner," the Wraith said. "I wonder...are there _really _two of you? Do you honestly think that the traitor will - "

Sheppard decided that he'd heard enough. He straightened his stunner and fired twice in quick succession. The Wraith staggered backwards before crashing into the snow with a burst of white flakes. His handblaster rolled a few feet to his side and Sheppard tromped forward to pick it up.

Once he'd done that, he faced Keith. "Hey, you okay/"

Keith stood perfectly still, his arms by his side, his eyes huge. Despite how still he was standing, tremors convulsed down his spine.

"I am..." Keith paused. "I am..._fine."_

"You sure?"

"Yes. I am sure. I was merely...caught off guard_..._a little," Keith said. "To hear it like that...I had been thinking it for some time, now. _Traitor. _But to hear me being called it was...ah. I want let this happen again, John."

"Uh huh," said Sheppard, walking to Keith's side and patting him on the shoulder. "Come on, Keith. Let's get going. You said there were fifteen drones after us?"

"Yes," Keith said. "And more will only come." He shook his head to clear the hair from his face. "Since we are unable to go via the village, we'll have to find the Stargate through the forest. The sooner we get going..."

He let his words trail off before picking his way through the snow again. Sheppard threw the stunned Wraith one last glance and hastened to follow Keith.

* * *

"Keith...stop...slow down..._damn_..."

It seemed that Keith had not heard Sheppard's plea or was choosing to ignore it, because he continued marching through the snow without a backwards glance. But after taking several steps forward, he stopped and whirled around to face where the colonel lay slumped against a tree, eyes closed, breathing hard.

"John!" Keith's voice was high with concern. He quickly tramped over to Sheppard's side, though he didn't touch him. "John! Are you all right?"

"What's it look like," Sheppard groaned, resting his head against the tree. Like all the other trees in the forest, it felt slippery and cold beneath the crown of his head. Everything was slippery and cold. His coat was sodden, his boots caked with snow. The cold bit through even the lined coat - it was a cold that stabbed at his bones. He could barely move, but wasn't sure if that had to do with the cold or the aching weariness that had gripped his body.

"John...ah...John...can you move?" Keith said.

Sheppard chose not to answer the question. Instead, he posed a question of his own: "The...the guys that are chasing us...where are..."

"Nowhere near us, so far," Keith said. "They seem to be checking near the village. They're right in doing so - I'm more familiar with the area around the village than the forest."

"Oh, goddammit to goddamn hell,Keith." Sheppard remembered another escape, much like this one but unsettlingly different as well. _This is why you shouldn't ask a Wraith for directions. They never know, damn it! _"Hey...how do you know?"

"I can sense them," Keith said. He seemed to have taken a seat by Sheppard, but the colonel didn't feel like opening his eyes to verify this.

"Oh, really...and can they...sense _you_...?" It took all his effort to force the words out. A part of him just wanted to sink into the snow and fall asleep - but he knew that to sleep now was to die. No matter what happened, he had to stay awake.

"_No!" _Keith sounded scandalized. "No, _no. _I can hide my thoughts - and my presence - from the others. I have done it all my life. I can do it now."

"Is...that...so?" Sheppard grumbled. "Damn..."

"John?" Keith sounded concerned again. "John...are you all right? You look terrible."

"Heh heh, yeah, I know..." Sheppard chuckled weakly. "Oh, Keith. You...you don't deserve to die."

"No! We're not dying_, _John!" Keith cried. "John - open your eyes - wake up - _neither of us is dying! _Please - "

Sheppard no longer cared what Keith was saying. "You...you don't. You're different...from the others. It's...kind of weird. But it...it doesn't...really matter. You...you're a...you're a good kid, Keith. A good kid."

_"I thought that you would be different," you said. I don't know about me, but _you _are different. And I think that knowing you has made me a little different, too._

He wanted to tell Keith as much, but his throat wasn't working and his brain was too sluggish. "I...I'm so happy...I met you. So happy."

"John, do not talk as if you're going to die," Keith said. "_Please_ - "

"Yeah...well..." Sheppard sighed. "I won't die...I hope not. It was...easier...escaping from...Kolya. It wasn't...cold. I think...I was younger back then...oh, hell. How...just how many damn years...did Later...did he...take...I feel...at least...ninety..."

"Years?" There was the shuffle of leather - Keith had stood up. "_Years? _You wish for your years back? Then very well! John - if that will help - I'll _give _them back."

For the first time since he'd collapsed at the base of the tree, John Sheppard opened his eyes. The dazzling whiteness rushed into his vision again, but the first thing he saw was Keith - Keith's moon-like eyes shining with fierce resolve. Sheppard stared back into those eyes, aware that his heart had begun pounding at a dizzying rate. Disbelief sung in his head.

"Keith..." he began. "You didn't..."

"We have time," Keith said. "They are still searching near the village. I'm very sorry I didn't do this sooner. I had been intending to do it all along."

"But Keith," Sheppard said. "I thought you said you weren't going to - "

Keith smiled thinly. "I have told you before to not take me lightly. Well, I will repeat - _do not take me lightly. _I killed a man so that you could live, John Sheppard. Do you understand now?"

Sheppard wasn't sure exactly what there was to understand, but the ferocity in Keith's expression left no room for argument. He nodded. "Do it, Keith."

Keith returned the nod with a jerk of his head before sinking to his knees in front of Sheppard. He tucked his hair behind his ears to keep it out of his eyes, and with infinite slowness raised his hand and rested it on Sheppard's chest. Sheppard gave an involuntarily jerk - _a Wraith was touching him _- and Keith made to withdraw his hand, but the colonel managed to fight down his base instincts and snatched Keith by the wrist.

"No," he said. "I'm...asking for this."

Keith swallowed and gulped. "Very well, John. But - release my hand first."

Sheppard obliged. The instant he released Keith's hand the Wraith drew it back - and slammed it directly over Sheppard's chest. Right where Later had fed on him. A violent convulsion shot through Sheppard's body and despite himself he cried out. It _hurt. _The same pain as a feeding, stabbing through his entire body. Knives upon knives. He jerked and thrashed against Keith's strong grip, his mind screaming. _No, no, no not Keith, not Keith, he can't be feeding on me, not Keith _-

"Ah - oh - _John_ - I'm _sorry _- " Keith let out an agonized moan. Even through the haze of his pain the colonel saw the Wraith turn away, his hair swinging in his face and hiding it from scrutiny. Acting on an instinct deeper than even fear and pain, Sheppard threw out his hands and squeezed the sides of Keith's face, turning him so they were eye-to-eye.

"What? John - " Keith cried. "What are you doing? Let go - "

"No," Sheppard groaned. Through the pain, it was almost impossible to force the words out - but he had to. _Had _to. "No. Don't look away. Look in my eyes, Keith. _Look me in the eye. _I'm asking for this, damn it. So be a man and look at me while you do it."

He let his hands drop limply to his sides again. Keith made a small noise that sounded like a whimper, but he didn't look away. His pale eyes, shimmering with guilt and misery, met Sheppard's. The instant eye contact was established a jolt coursed through Sheppard's heart, a jolt that had nothing to do with the pain from Keith's hand clamped over his chest.

But there was something else now. Something beyond pain. A feeling at once familiar and alien. Electricity rushed from Keith into Sheppard, vibrant and crackling with life. With it came a blaze of heat, not burning but the warmth that came from swallowing a dose of tonic. It brought him back his years, one by one. Spreading through his veins into the tips of his fingers and toes. Every year that Keith returned to him, he felt him. That time with the other Wraith it had happened so quickly it was a blur, but this - this was slow and he savored it. His hair became thicker, darker, and smoother; the wrinkles on his skin smoothed out; the leaden aching slipped away from his limbs. He knew it was all happening even though he couldn't see it. Couldn't see it because he maintained eye contact with the Wraith returning him his life. He stared into Keith's silvery eyes for so long he forgot everything else. Keith was his world and he wouldn't have it any other way.

The last of the warmth circulated through him and then Keith wrenched his hand from Sheppard's chest - there was a stab of pain - and stood up and stomped a few yards in the distance to stare at a tree. Sheppard lay where he was, letting the last of the electric tingling leave his system. He sucked in a deep breath...and stood up.

"Wow, Keith," he said. "This is - I feel the best I've ever had! Thanks!"

As he thanked Keith, he realized he _meant _it. With all his heart and soul and every fiber of his rejuvenated being. Hell, he was happy enough to bounce through the forest, though he had a little more restraint than that. He felt better than he had in days. Gone was any trace of aching. His limbs were light as air, light enough for him to run a mile and not break into a sweat. It felt a little like the time after _that _Wraith had returned his life, but different. Better. Because Keith was the one who had given him back his youth.

"Come on, Keith!" he shouted, half-dashing half-skipping through the snow. "What are we waiting for?"

Finally Keith turned away from the tree, looking exasperated and a little angry. But beneath that there was something else, something Sheppard couldn't name. Concern? Cautious optimism? Well, whatever it was, it didn't matter. Sheppard had never felt more grateful in his life. Keith had saved him, had saved them both.

"Yes, let us go," Keith said quietly. "The - the superiors are - abandoning their search of the village. They are starting to spread into the forest. We don't have much time."

With that, Keith turned and started heading into the woods again. Sheppard followed, no longer stumbling, no longer feeling the cold. All thoughts of slumping against a tree and sleeping forever had long been banished.

* * *

"_Whoo," _Sheppard said, peering past the cover of a low, holly-like bush (though it didn't have any berries) at the Stargate. The Stargate that was blocked by a contigent of ten drone guards all with nasty-looking stun guns in their hands.

"That's only the normal gate guard," Keith said, taking care to whisper just as Sheppard was. "More are coming. Evidently since they've been unable to find us in the forest, they're going to concentrate all their forces on the gate and..."

He let his voice trail off, but he didn't need to say anything more. Sheppard nodded gravely.

"It's a good tactic," he said. "So...we'll just have to fight our way through them before backup comes, right?" He twirled his two handblasters.

"Tch," Keith said.

After a while of tromping through the forest, Sheppard and Keith had finally approached the planet's Stargate - only to see that it was well-guarded. Now the two hid behind the not-holly bushes, deliberating.

"Do you think..." Sheppard paused. "Can they sense us, by any chance?"

Keith cast the drones a nervous glance. "N...no. I don't think so. I mean, they shouldn't."

"Oh, _great, _Keith," sighed Sheppard, shaking his head - much to his joy, the motion didn't cause him a headache. "That's really reassuring, believe me."

"No! What I mean is - what I mean... What I mean is, _no. _I am...I am doing my best to block my presence from them. But...I...ah...I don't know how long I can..."

He trailed off but didn't need to say more. Sheppard straightened to get a better view of the ten drones blocking the Stargate. A sense of grim purpose fell over him. He turned to Keith and said, "All right, then. Do you have any ideas?"

Keith did not meet Sheppard's gaze. He continued peering through the branches of the not-holly bush, staring at the guards as if trying to incinerate them with his eyes. Which _would _be a pretty good plan if it worked. After some time, he said, "None...really. Aside from fighting our way through them all."

"Yeah, figured," said Sheppard, grinning though there was nothing funny about their situation. "So we just burst through with our guns blazing? Sounds like a plan to me." He cocked his two stunners and tensed, preparing to spring. Beside him, Keith tensed as well, although the Wraith was trembling.

"Wait a sec, Keith," Sheppard said, holding him back with an arm. "Look...I'm going to have to dial Atlantis, because I'm the one who knows the address."

Keith didn't look at him. He said softly, "Yes, I understand. I...I shall provide cover for you while you dial. I understand, I understand...but I will need one of your stunners..."

"Hold on, Keith," said Sheppard, trying unsuccessfully to look Keith in the eye, but Keith's hair was covering his face again. "Are you sure about this? I mean, you've never been in a - "

"I helped you get past all those guards back in the complex, didn't I?" Keith said. "I...I can do this. But more than that - I _must _do this. You're right. You are the only one who can dial Atlantis. I - even if I've never fought before, I don't have much of a choice, do I? I can do this, John. Now, your stunner."

Sheppard couldn't debate with Keith's logic. He slipped one of the stunners into Keith's outstretched hand. In a vague way he noticed that the Wraith's palm was covered with blood - _his _blood. From giving the Gift of Life. He chose to make no comment.

"You ready?" Sheppard said, and Keith nodded. "Okay, then - _now!"_

He didn't waste any time bursting out of the shelter of the bushes, firing his stunner like mad. Three of the guards stumbled and crumpled into the snow. Immediately their fellows staring firing; Sheppardrolled out of the way of a blast of blue light that hit a tree, thanking his newly-restored vitality. He would not have been able to dodge that shot in his old creaky body.

Sheppard pelted towards the DHD, kicking up huge showers of snow as he did ran. The guards noticed where he was headed and maneuvered to block the DHD, but Sheppard fired at them - more shots came from behind him. From Keith. Two guards fell via well-placed shots from Keith, and Sheppard would have turned around and congratulated the kid for a job well done but he was too occupied with trying to reach the DHD

Another stunner fired dangerously close to Sheppard. He barely managed to throw himself out of the way of the shot - only to collide into a Wraith that had snuck up behind him. Sheppard swung his arm around to try to get in a shot, but a vice-like hand closed around his arm and hurled him face-forward into the snow.

"What the - " he groaned, winded The Wraith guard, now looming above him, raised its stun gun - but then buckled and fell over, hitting the snow an inch to Sheppard's left. Thanking Keith in his head, Sheppard pulled himself up by his elbows.. He didn't have time to recover before another guard fired at him, and he rolled out of the way before returning fire.

"_Hurry, _John - more Wraith are coming - at least twenty - _John!" _Keith shouted as he fired both his stunners. Most of his shots happened to miss, but enough were connecting. Enough so that only three Wraith were left in his way. The colonel needed no further encouragement. He pulled himself out of the snow and resumed his dashed for the DHD. Something sticky, wet and warm trickled down his collar and he realized that his head injury had started bleeding again - no doubt after he'd been thrown into the snow with such force.

Well, he didn't have time to ponder a minor head injury - his life, andKeith's, were at stake. There were only two Wraith left and they were covering the DHD. He fired upon them, but to his astonished horror, nothing came out of the stunner. Sheppard shook it, but the truth couldn't have been clearer: he was out of power.

"_Keith!" _he screamed, diving out of the way of another stunner blast. "My stunner's out! You have to cover me, dammit - "

He wasn't sure if Keith had heard but apparently he had, because as Sheppard surged forward, Keith fired even more intensely. Three shots catched one of the remaining guards, who fell with a shower of snow. Now only one guard was left, who took a place directly in front of the DHD and aimed its stunner at Sheppard's chest -

Only to collapse against the DHD when a stunner bolt hit it in the forehead. Sheppard whirled around to stare at Keith. Keith looked equally surprised.

"Everyone gets lucky," he said. But then he tensed and said, "Oh, _no_ - the backup, they're here - "

Sheppard didn't need Keith's warning because he saw the blue blast that flew straight at him. He dove out of its way, crashing on his shoulder in the snow. He pulled himself up, spitting out snow, and dashed to the DHD. Unfortunately, when you were Lt. Colonel John Sheppard and you lived in the Pegasus Galaxy, nothing was easy, and this situation proved no exception. Just his luck, the unconscious Wraith guard was slumped over the DHD, preventing him from dialing.

Making matters worse, twenty or so soldiers emerged from the forest, all firing their stun guns. Sheppard ducked behind the DHD for cover, and Keith threw himself to the ground to make himself less of a target, all the while continuing to fire his two stunners. It didn't take a genius to see that things were not in their favor. Grimly, Sheppard shoved aside the guard blocking the DHD. It fell hard into the snow. _Now _he could dial.

And dial he did, keeping one eye on the DHD and the other on the rapidly approaching soldiers. But Sheppard found he didn't even need to look at the DHD to dial Atlantis' address; by this point, he'd memorized it. He knew exactly which symbols to push and in which order. This was a great advantage because it meant he could keep most of his focus on the soldiers and dodging their stunner blasts. With each symbol he pressed hope rose in his chest.

At long last, the sweet word _home _reverberating in his ears - even drowning out the roar of his survival instincts - Sheppard pressed the DHD's central orb. An instant later the Stargate activated with its characteristic _kawoosh, _a sight that he could not have been more grateful to see. _He was going home. _He surged forward, prepared to leap straight through the stabilized event horizon into the familiar expanse of Atlantis' gate room...

But he was stopped by three distinct but related thoughts that rocketed into his mind: _Keith! _and _Oh, hell, how will they know it's me? _and _No, I can't let Later know the address!_

Sheppad froze, arrested by cold horror. _How will they know. _He'd never thought about it before. Why should he? He had just assumed he'd dial Atlantis and they'd know it was him and let him through. But how would they know it was him? When he had no radio, no way of relaying his IDC. The people at Atlantis would most likely raise the shield if they were on the receiving end of an unauthorized dialing.

And if he dialed, then the address would be stored in the DHD. Stored for the Wraith to extract. Panic bubbled in his stomach. He supposed he could dial to another planet and go to Atlantis from there, but the Wraith would fllow him and they'd find Atlantis' address anyway. No...the only thing to do was destroy the DHD. But _how? _He didn't have any weapon capable of that...

A familiar buzzing whirr rose above his head and when he looked up he saw the sleek shape of a dart. Sheppard groaned inside. Could this situation get any worse?

It did. The dart began firing upon them. Sheppard yelled and ducked behind the DHD as snow blasted everywhere and even a few Wraith drones fell over, killed by the dart's weapons. He wondered just what the hell the dart was playing at - but then it struck him. It was trying to frighten and disorient the escapees, and possibly kill them. No, kill _Keith._

"Keith!" Sheppard bellowed, just as Keith ducked behind the DHD with him. He was shaking and his hair was wet with snow and he was clutching his shoulder, hissing. "What's wrong?" Sheppard demanded, concerned.

"Got clipped - shoulder - " Keith hissed through clenched teeth.

Another blast from the dart, disconcertingly close, so close that snow rocketed upon the DHD and splattered Sheppard and Keith. As the snow splashed down the collar of his jacket, he stiffened - not just because of the cold, but because a revelation had hit him.

"Draw the dart's fire, Keith!" he shouted, seizing Keith's wrist and dashing a little forward, so they were no longer under the DHD's cover. Keith cried out, astonished, and yanked against Sheppard's arm, but Sheppard just tugged him harder.

"Draw it!" Sheppard repeated. He had no time to worry about whether Atlantis would let him through, nor about whether Keith was okay - all that mattered was the most pressing problem. _He would not give Atlantis to the Wraith. _This plan was insane, it might not even work, but as long as there was a chance, he would take it. Even if it result in his and Keith's deaths.

Keith had grabbed a stun gun from one of the fallen soldiers and now fired into the air, at the gleefully firing dart. The blue blast hit the dart, though it didn't seem to have any affect - nonetheless, it had drawn the pilot's attention towards the two of them.

Sheppard sprinted with all his speed up the platform towards the rippling event horizon, pausing only to throw himself and Keith to the side to evade bolts from the remaining soldiers. A line of shots from the dart bombarded after them, slaying a few more soldiers and tearing trees from their roots.

Just before Sheppard leapt through the event horizon, he felt a burst of heat from behind him and the boom of an explosion. The DHD? He didn't dare look. With a mighty yell, he tightened his grip around Keith's forearm and dove face forward through the Stargate.

Now, whether they survived was all up to Atlantis.

* * *

"Unscheduled offworld activation!" Chuck shouted. He sat in front of his station as always, even though the sun had already set and night had fallen over Atlantis. The usual crew was still bustling around the gate room, because they were waiting for Major Lorne and his team to report back from the second world that Sheppard might have been held at.

And Rodney McKay, for his part, had acquired the bizarre caprice that Colonel Sheppard might have escaped and would soon dial Atlantis. No one bothered to discourage him, although Weir privately felt that it was unlikely. But Rodney was taking this harder than anyone else, so she indulged him on this count. He sat in front of his laptop, pressing one hand to his cheek, staring ahead at nothing. When Chuck had shouted, he bolted upright but didn't say anything.

Weir didn't want to give him false hope. She asked Chuck, "Is it Major Lorne's team?"

"It isn't Major Lorne," said Chuck. "We're not receiving an IDC."

"None at all?" Weir said.

"No," said Chuck. "It could be anyone on the other side..."

"It might be Sheppard," Rodney piped up - which Weir had frankly been expecting.

"Rodney, not this again," she said.

"Well, it might be," Rodney said stubbornly. "Come on, you know Sheppard. Do you really think he'd let himself stay the Wraith's prisoner for more than two days?"

"If it's Colonel Sheppard," Chuck asked, "where's his IDC?"

"Of course he wouldn't have an IDC, they probably took all his equipment," Rodney said. He seemed more and more convinced of the veracity of his argument with every passing second.

Weir sighed. "Or, Rodney, it could be the Wraith, who've extracted Atlantis' address from him."

The blue light from the event horizon cast rippling reflections upon Rodney's face. He looked a little otherworldly when he gazed back at Weir, but his expression was all too familiar, and so very Rodney - righteous indignity. "Have a little faith in him, Elizabeth! You know he's stronger than that. The last thing he'd do is betray his people. Come on, just _think _- what if it _is _him? If it is, we'll have to lower the shield soon before he steps through!"

Weir had to concede that Rodney had a point...but all the same, it didn't hurt to be cautious. "All right," she said slowly, turning back to the shielded Stargate. "But if it _is _the Wraith, I'd like a little more security than what's there. I want a full complement of marines - and Ronon and Teyla - positioned around the Stargate the instant I give the order."

As the marines took their places, Weir turned to Chuck. She breathed in deeply, and said, praying that her order would not doom Atlantis, "Lower the shield."

* * *

For a horrifying moment after he'd thrown himself into the event horizon, Sheppard expected to smack against the Atlantis Stargate's shield and meet and instant end. The fear dissipated when he found himself experiencing a Stargate trip that was practically routine. His passage through the wormhole was as stomach-turning and exhilarating as ever, perhaps a little faster than usual because he'd thrown himself headfirst.

It seemed a blink later he'd been flung out with a strangled shout. He crashed onto a hard floor, his head swimming. When he opened his eyes his saw nothing but dim shapes moving across a whirling blur of colors. He was aware of his own hand clutching Keith's forearm tight enough to cut off the kid's circulation, the heaviness of his coat, trickles of melting snow running down his hair.

All around he heard pandemonium - shouts, screams, scurrying feet. And guns clicking. Alarm bells rang in Sheppard's adrenaline-fueled brain and he reached for a stunner he no longer had, because he'd thrown it aside when it ran out of ammo. His head gave a violent lurch.

Voices began breaking from the general hubbub, some panicked, some concerned. One voice in particular resonated in Sheppard's veins. A man's voice, high-pitched and edged with panic. "Sheppard, Sheppard, oh my God, Sheppard, oh my God, it's _you _- "

"Rodney," groaned Sheppard, and with a crash of recognition his vision cleared and everything fell into place. He craned his neck and saw, all around, the soaring expanse of the gate room. After days of imprisonment in a tiny, dark cell, Atlantis seemed endless and free. Best of all, the sounds of stomping and clicking guns around him weren't the noises of an invading army of Wraith, but of Atlantis' marines. His plan had worked, the DHD had been destroyed, nobody was following him, he was here, he was here, he was...

He was back in Atlantis. Home.

_

* * *

_

The plot hole (for those who haven't read this the first time around, or forgot) is the fact that DHDs store addresses, something I'd apparently forgotten when I first wrote this. I can't remember if the wormhole stays engaged when the DHD is destroyed, but for the sake of this story I'll say it does.

And meh, I am still unsatisfied with how easily Atlantis lets Sheppard in.

Please do review.


	10. Atlantis

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Ten: Atlantis_

The biggest change in this chapter, I'd say, is that I discovered that the Atlantis brig has more than one holding cell. So Keith and Schebner are prisoners at the same time, and thus I can (sort of) explore the connection between them better.

The nature of the John and Rodney scene has been changed so both are a little more in character. Aside from that, the biggest edits are the usual prose cleanups.

* * *

Clattering footsteps, clicking guns, screams and shouts. Sheppard buried his face into the floor, aware of nothing except the noises surrounding him. Voices washed over him, voices that mingled a hundred emotions - concern, joy, disbelief -

Suspicion, unease, fear. Worry. The low, murmured feeling that something was wrong._. _Above Carson's orders for a medical team to report to the gate room immediately, Sheppard heard guns being clicked and aimed at him.

His wild joy at his success instantly dissipated. "Whoa, whoa, careful there!" he shouted, lifting his head and scanning the room for soldiers - though they were all too easy to see. A ring of marines, plus Ronon and Teyla, surrounded him, all pointing their guns at him. No, not at him. At the person lying on the floor next to him, moon-colored eyes huge with disbelief...

At Keith.

"Hey! Hey! Put those things away! _Now!" _Sheppard shouted, dragging him and Keith up to a sitting position - he still had one hand clamped around Keith's forearm. Keith turned nervously back and forth, his hair swinging. He seemed overwhelmed.

The soldiers didn't budge. Why they hadn't fired yet was a mystery - perhaps because Sheppard was clinging to the Wraith's arm. That didn't stop them from aiming their guns at the Wraith, and it certainly didn't stop Ronon from glowering. Teyla's expression of distaste was tempered only by the slight confusion in her eyes.

"What the hell are you doing with _that, _Sheppard?" Ronon snarled, looking like he wanted nothing more than to shoot Keith in the head and then stab in the back a few times and _then _burn his body for insurance.

"John...?" This was Weir, standing with Rodney a little ways behind the marines. Both looked completely lost. "John...can you explain what's going on?"

"I _will, _okay?" yelled Sheppard above the hubbub. "But you gotta put those guns away!"

"There is a _Wraith _with you..." said Teyla coldly.

"John, I need to know what's going on, first," Weir said. She kept glancing back and forth between Sheppard and Keith.

"Yeah, yeah, well, I'll tell you!" Sheppard shouted. His head was beginning to throb. "Look - if it wasn't for him I'd probably be dead by now! So quit pointing your guns at him! That's an _order!"_

His voice rose sharply at the end. No matter what, he had to make them understand. Understand that Keith was not a threat. That he was ally, that he was different. Understand the same way that Sheppard did.

The soldiers exchanged nervous glances; their training said that they ought to shoot any Wraith on sight, but their military commander was ordering them not to. Teyla turned to Weir.

"Elizabeth...?" she said.

Weir closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, before saying, "All right, then. Lower your weapons."

"Yeah, you heard her," Sheppard said. "Put 'em down."

The soldiers, though they still looked confused and uncertain, lowered their guns one by one. Ronon was the last, and he lowered it by less than inch. Seconds later Carson came barreling through them, followed by a medical team and stretcher.

"Excuse us - coming through - oh, Colonel Sheppard, are you all right? Are you all right?" Beckett was in front of Sheppard now and he grabbed the colonel by the shoulder and helped him to his feet - inadvertantly causing Sheppard to release his grip on Keith. Acting on reflex alone, he reached for the young Wraith who had slumped to the floor, but Keith was too far beneath him for him to reach.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm _fine, _Carson," said Sheppard, as Carson began to help him to the stretcher. "Hey, look - I don't need this thing. I'm fine, I can walk. Hey, wait a sec - _what the hell are you doing?"_

Sheppard directed the last alarmed query at the soldiers who had surrounded Keith and forced him to his feet by prodding him with ther guns. Two marines immediately flanked him and several more, plus Ronon and Teyla, followed, all training their guns on the Wraith. Sheppard could barely see him through the soldiers surrounding him, but he managed to meet Keith's eyes. Eyes that were now wide with panic. Something squirmed inside Sheppard and he tried to flash Keith an encouraging smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.

"I'm sorry, John, but it's a necessary precaution," said Weir, before turning back to the marines. "Take him to the brig. We'll talk there."

"Where should we put him?" Teyla asked. "Next to Schebner?"

"No, one cell down," Weir said. "Can't hurt to be too careful."

_Who the hell is Schebner? _Sheppard thought, but Keith's eyes widened with recognition and he stammered, "Sch - Schebner, wait a minute - "

Ronon silenced him by slamming his gun into Keith's head and snarling, "Shut up, Wraith." Keith threw Ronon an affronted glare but fell silent.

"Hey! Come back here, you're making a mistake!" Sheppard bellowe, trying to leap off the stretcher upon which Carson had forced him to sit. This was not the reception he'd been imagining. But then again, what other sort of reception could Keith hope to receive? As far as the expedition knew, Keith was nothing but a Wraith. All Wraith, by default, were enemies. What they were doing was the only thing that made sense - but it rankled Sheppard so damned much.

"For heaven's sake, Colonel, stop struggling so much!" cried Carson, trying to get Sheppard to lie down. But aside from that minor throb in his head he felt perfectly fine. "We have to get you to the infirmary!"

"I'm _fine, _Carson!" Sheppard craned his neck, trying to get a good look at Keith. Keith was still staring in his direction even as the marines escorted him out of the gate room, but he no longer looked disoriented or panicked - his expression was something closer to resignation. Sheppard had never seen such a look on Keith's face and it terrified him.

He didn't know why he was protesting so much - if anything, he should have expected this. But still. It wasn't right that the person who had helped Sheppard so much back in that hole was going to be thrown behind bars himself.

As the medical team whisked him to the infirmary and the soldiers marched to the brig, Sheppard tried to shake his head sadly as he passed Keith. He couldn't think of any other way to apologize.

* * *

Only about an hour earlier, Dr. Weir had been standing in front of an Atlantis holding cell, attempting in vain to question an uncooperative Schebner. Now she was standing before another cell, questioning this time not a Wraith worshipper but a Wraith itself.

The Wraith whom Colonel Sheppard had brought with him through the Stargate wasn't slumping on the bench like Schebner had been earlier - instead, he was leaning against the left wall, as close to the bars as he dared without activating the force field, and he seemed to be trying to peer into the cells beside him. His long white hair, typical for his species, covered half his face, hiding his expression from scrutiny.

"Hello," Weir said, approaching the cell but making sure to keep a safe distance from it.

She hadn't been expecting any reply, but the Wraith looked up and faced her, his unusual pale eyes flashing. He said, "I'd like to speak to John, please."

It was all Weir could do to keep herself from stepping backward. She'd never met a Wraith like this before. A Wraith whose voice was so quiet, who spoke to her politely instead of snarling and threatening her with death. For a moment, she didn't how to respond - but respond she did.

"Colonel Sheppard isn't available at the moment."

"You cannot keep him in the infirmary for long," the Wraith said. "Aside from his head wound, John is not heavily injured. You will release him soon, and when you do, I want to speak to him."

Weir sighed and linked her fingers together. She maintained eye contact with the Wraith, even though his luminous stare was beginning to unnerve her. Didn't he need to blink?

"Keith," the Wraith said. "You may address me as 'Keith.'"

If Weir hadn't been surprised before... No Wraith before had ever divulged a name - in fact, Weir was starting to believe that they didn't have names. Although..."Keith" was definitely an English name. A short and simple English name, something like -

"John gave you that name, didn't he?" Weir said.

"Yes," said the Wraith, said Keith. For the first time, he blinked. "Yes, he did. For his ease. For _your _ease, you may also address me as such. It is certainly more dignifying than being called 'Wraith' or 'you.'"

Weir couldn't argue with that logic of that_, _so she said, "All right, then...Keith. John says you helped him escape."

Keith nodded. "Yes, Dr. Weir. I did."

"And..._why, _may I ask?" Weir said. If there was one thing she'd learned about the Wraith, it was that they never did anything without an ulterior motive. Perhaps...Keith had helped Sheppard escape so that he would be allowed in Atlantis, where he then act as a spy for the Wraith. The thought made Weir recoil, but it made a perverse kind of sense. If it was true, then he couldn't be allowed out of the brig. By all means they ought to kill him. Some part of Weir said that Sheppard would not be very happy if that happened, though...

Keith did not answer the question. He surveyed Weir with the eye that was uncovered by his hair, before saying, his voice soft and accusing, "You don't trust me."

"No," said Weir. "No. I don't."

"Why don't you, Dr. Weir? I mean you and your people no harm," Keith said, looking genuinely confused.

Weir found herself fighting the bizarre urge to laugh. The answer to Keith's question was blindlingly obvious, yet it seemed he hadn't perceived it.

_"_Because..." Weir paused. "Because you're a Wraith. The enemy."

"_I _am not your enemy," Keith said sharply. "But I see there is no point in arguing it. Your mind is set, Dr. Weir. I don't believe anything I do can change your mind...or at least, anything I do at the _moment_..."

A cryptic statement, but Weir was too used to Wraith spewing cryptic statements. She could already tell she wasn't going to get any more information from _this _Wraith. The look Keith was giving her said that this conversation was over.

"There are many things that I would like from you, and I know that I would be ungrateful asking too much," Keith said. "I would like asylum, for one thing. And I would like to know exactly who this 'Schebner' prisoner is. And above all I wish to speak with John. Is that one wish you can grant? Let me speak to him, just for a moment. And after that, Dr. Weir...I'll give you and your people a reason to trust me."

It was the most Weir had ever heard a Wraith speak. At first, she felt a overwhelmed and had trouble processing the meaning of all his words, but after running them in her head several times, she managed to make sense of them. And she jerked her head into a nod. That last request was a reasonable one; she couldn't think of any pretext for denying it.

"All right, then. When John is released from the infirmary, you can speak with him. In the meantime..."

"I understand, Dr. Weir," Keith said. "I suppose I'll languish here."

Weir wondered if Keith was trying to be darkly sarcastic, and then wondered how that was possible since Wraith didn't have a sense of humor. With a sigh, she turned around and left the brig. Keith kept his eyes on Weir's retreating back before resuming his efforts at staring into the neighboring cells.

* * *

"I - I don't understand - you definitely bear the marks of having been fed on," Carson said. "But you're as fit and spry as ever!"

"Well, duh_," _Sheppard said with a sigh, resting his head on the pillow of his bed. This bed was intimately familiar to him, as was the rest of Atlantis' infirmary - it was pretty much reserved for him every time he got injured, which was often. But the room's familiarity gave him no comfort. "It's kinda obvious, isn't it? Keith gave my life back."

"Yes, and that's fascinating," said Carson, taking a seat by Sheppard's bed. "We already know that the Wraith can give life back, thanks to you, but we don't know exactly how it works - "

"Then why don't you just ask him?" Sheppard said. "I'm sure he'll be more than happy to tell you."

"What?" said Carson, his eyes widening. "Oh, no no no no - I can't - I mean - "

"Why? Keith doesn't bite," Sheppard said. "Look, Carson...I'm sure you'll be able to understand. Keith isn't an ordinary Wraith. He's a nice guy, he hates feeding on humans. He helped me so much when I was in that hole. I mean it, Carson. If it wasn't for Keith, I wouldn't be talking to you today."

"My...my." Carson shook his head. "I never thought I'd hear from you of all people, Colonel Sheppard! You, calling a Wraith a 'nice guy!' Although I suppose you did do this before, didn't you - "

"What? You talking about when I escaped from Kolya?" Sheppard frowned. "I don't know...that time was different. We were just two prisoners with a common goal. Keith, Keith wasn't a had a choice, the entire way. He helped me because he _wanted _to. I know that's crazy, and I kind of don't believe it, but..."

He trailed off because he had nothing else to say. If Carson, the compassionate doctor, was having this much trouble understanding Keith, then he didn't want to think about what the rest of the team would think. Ronon in particular... Sheppard suppressed an involuntary shudder.

"Well, either the Wraith messed with your head, and I don't think that's the case since your brain waves all seem normal," Carson said, "or you're telling the truth. Maybe I'll go and - oh, hello, Elizabeth!"

Sheppard looked over Carson's shoulder to see that Dr. Weir had entered the infirmary, and was rapidly approaching Sheppard's bed. The colonel gave her a smile that she returned. "Hello, Carson. And...hello, John," she said. "It's good to have you back."

"Yeah," Sheppard said. "Good to be back."

"So...how are you feeling, John?" said Weir.

"Perfectly fine, actually," Sheppard said with an offhand shrug. "Carson insists on keeping me here, but really, besides this big lump on the back of my head, I'm in prime condition. I could get up and return to duty right now, honest."

"But you're doing no such thing," Carson protested, in his most serious "doctor-knows-best" voice. "For all we know, you might have internal injuries - "

"No, really!" Sheppard protested Carson's protest. "I'm not hurt at all. The Wraith...they didn't torture me that much. Aside from feeding on me a lot but as you can see, Keith fixed that."

"Ah. _Keith," _said Weir, her smile turning into a frown. "Actually, John...I came here to talk about him."

"Really?" Sheppard almost leapt out of bed, but Carson grabbed him by the shoulde and pushed him down again, firmly but gently. "How is he? Is he okay?"

Weir and Carson exchanged bemused glances - wondering without words what the world had come to if Colonel Sheppard was concerned about a Wraith. But hell, Keith was different...

"He...he wants to talk to you," Weir said. "He claims that once he gets to talk to you, he'll give us a 'reason to trust him,' in his own words. I'm not sure if he's bluffing, but - "

"Elizabeth, Keith saved my life," Sheppard cut in. "What other reason do you need to trust him?"

"Well..." Weir said. "John, that doesn't change the fact that he's a Wraith_. _For all we know, he could have helped you escape just so he could scout out Atlantis for the Wraith."

"No way in goddamned _hell!" _Sheppard yelled, anger giving fire to his words. "Keith would never do that,_ never, _I swear. You don't get it, he's an outcast among his people. They hate his guts, they were trying to _kill _him! They'd never trust him with a mission like that. Keith helped me out of his own free will. What's so damned hard about that to believe?"

Even as he asked the question he already knew the answer. It was because Keith, no matter how kind and brave and humble he was, was in Atlantis' eyes a Wraith. An enemy, first and foremost. They would never trust him.

"John..." Weir shook her head.

"Elizabeth," said Sheppard. "Just...just let me talk to him, okay?"

Weir looked like she was struggling with herself, but then she nodded and said, "All right. All right, then. When Carson sees fit to release, you can have your talk with him. But _only _when Carson gives you a clean bill of health."

Sheppard nodded as well. "Fair enough, Elizabeth."

* * *

Sheppard had been so intent on talking to Keith that he paid no attention to others who passed him in the halls. Many offered him greetings but he didn't return them - rude of him, he knew, but he couldn't think about such trivialities as saying "hello" when Keith was so unjustly locked up. But when Sheppard rounded a corner, he ran face-to-face with a man who he couldn't ignore.

Dr. Rodney McKay.

Sheppard's heart jumped inside him. After all, Rodney was the reason he had been captured. Because he'd tried saving Rodney, Later and the other Wraith had captured him and forced him to work their Ancient weapon. It wouldn't be right to just let Rodney pass by, and he doubted Rodney would let him. So Sheppard made the first move.

"Rodney!" he called, striding forward to intercept the scientist.

"What? What, look, can't you see I'm - _Sheppard!"_

Rodney looked up with eyes like saucers. Sheppard offered Rodney an awkward smile and a wave.

"Well, hey there, Rodney. Nice to see you again."

"Oh - oh - uh, yeah. Uh - same here," Rodney stammered, looking as if he'd been hit in the face with a two-by-four. The tablet dangled in his hand and he shuffled from foot to foot.

"Uh-huh," said Sheppard. Usually he'd be a little more glib than that, but now he found himself at a loss for words. Which was indeed a first. But what could he say to Rodney now? _Hey, thanks for getting me in this mess, buddy! _No, that was just callous. He'd had the choice to rescue Rodney or not and he'd chosen to do it. Yet had it even been a choice? Rescuing their fellows had become so natural to Sheppard and his team that it was almost second nature. He didn't need to think about saving a friend. Hell, if he thought about it, that just made him a worse friend.

"Uh," Rodney said, equally as glib. "Uh...well. Good to have you back. Good...really good. Uh..."

"You don't need to say anything, Rodney," said Sheppard, slipping his hands in his pockets (privately, he rejoiced at the idea of clothes with pockets, such an innovation!). "So, well...see you later, all right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Uh - see you." Rodney offered Sheppard a sort of half-wave, which Sheppard returned with a brief nod. The two exchanged awkward smiles before Sheppard stepped out of Rodney's path and strode down the hall again.

"Wait - hey, wait! Sheppard!"

Sheppard stopped in his tracks and whirled around to face the Canadian scientist. Rodney looked as surprised as Sheppard felt - and very much like a goldfish, with his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He seemed at a loss for words. Sheppard watched patiently, sensing that Rodney had something very important to say. Otherwise, he wouldn't be taking so long to spit it out.

To provide Rodney some impetus, he said, "What is it, Rodney?"

"Well - uh - um." Rodney paused for an inordinate period of time. "Uh - I just wanted - I guess - I just wanted to say - what I mean is - uh - I mean...I wanted to...I want to thank you. Sheppard. For...for uh...you know. Saving me back there. Yeah. I just...I just want you to know...I...well...um. Thanks. If you hadn't done that, I mean...I know that because you did that you, you got...well, you know. So i wanted you to know that it wasn't, um...it wasn't in vain. I mean it."

After he fell silent, neither of them said anything. They stared at each other, Sheppard struggling to compose himself, Rodney looking sheepish and self-conscious. Something was rising in Sheppard's chest, tightening his throat...a warm wave of emotion that took him a second to identify. His friendship for Rodney. For everyone in the team. And in that second he under

Finally, he decided to do what was natural. He stepped forward and clapped Rodney on the back, and said, "Come _on, _Rodney, what are you going on about? You don't need to thank me for anything, all right? I did what was natural. You're my friend and you were in trouble. Look, I don't blame you for anything that might have happened afterwards."

"Sheppard," Rodney said, his voice curiously strangled.

"Yeah, well." Sheppard patted Rodney's shoulder a few times before stepping back. "Well, um, go about your business, I won't bother you anymore."

"Yeah." Rodney nodded rapidly. "Yeah. Okay. Well - uh - see you. And...take care."

"Yeah, you take care of yourself, too," said Sheppard. He waited for Rodney to vanish down the hall before turning around and continuing his course towards the brig.

* * *

"John!" Keith cried the instant Sheppard entered the brig. The Wraith had been sitting on the bench, his hands folded in his lap and his head lowered, but the instant Sheppard appeared, Keith got to his feet and dashed to the bars, though he didn't touch them - he'd probably found out about the force field from experience.

"Good to see you too," Sheppard said. "You liking your new quarters?"

Keith graced Sheppard with a sardonic smile. "You know, it's funny, John. Now our positions have been reversed."

"Hopefully not for long," Sheppard said. He turned to one of the guards and said, "Hey, mind opening it for me?"

The guard nodded; with a hum the force field deactivated and the cell door slid open. The instant it opened the guards pointed their stun guns at Keith. Sheppard glared at them but they didn't lower their weapons, so with a sigh he slipped into the cell.

"Sorry about that," he said, jerking his head at the guards. "It's just a...precaution."

"I will not do anything to harm you. You know that," Keith said. The familiar look of reproach was shining in his eyes.

"Yeah, but they don't," Sheppard said. "So. You wanted to talk to me?"

Keith nodded. "Yes, John. How are you feeling?"

Sheppard rubbed the back of his head, now bandaged by Dr. Beckett. "Great, thank you. And you...?"

"Fine," said Keith, absently running his hand down the arm that had been stunned. "You must be happy to be back home again."

"Yeah," Sheppard said. "Yeah...I am. But look, I'm pretty sure you didn't call me here just so we could chat. You have something you want to tell me. Isn't that right?"

"Sharp as always, John," Keith said. "You're right. If...you don't mind. I am aware of how awfully selfish this must seem, but I wanted to discuss future."

"What do you mean, your future?" Sheppard said, but he already knew. It was a knowledge he fought against with all his being - he'd spared only the most cursory of thought to it back when he and Keith had been plotting their escape, but now he knew he no longer could run from it. No longer run from what Keith was.

"I cannot stay here forever, John. _You know this," _Keith said, tightly, but with a hysterical edge. "Sooner or later, I am going to have to feed. And what then? I doubt your people will spare me someone to kill. Will they?"

"Argh, Keith, can't this wait?" Sheppard groaned.

"No, it cannot_, _John," Keith said. "John, as much as I'd want to...I can't stay here."

"But you can't go back to the Wraith_, _either!" Sheppard had a shrewd idea of what awaited Keith if he ever returned to the Wraith. He remembered Later striking Keith and berating him, remembered another Wraith sneering as he called Keith a traitor. A traitor. That was what he was. By nature the Wraith didn't have many defectors, but Sheppard doubted that they'd welcome them back with open arms.

"Well," said Keith, with a harsh smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Either way, I will die. I'll either die of starvation here, or..."

"No," Sheppard said. "No _way, _Keith. You're not going to die. Look - you give up too easily, kiddo. Remember when you said there was no escape? Well, here we are, and I'm sure that both of us have escaped. This is...this is the exact same kind of scenario. Think positive. Something good's bound to happen, trust me."

He might as well have been asking Keith to trust a carnival game operator. Both of them knew that he was blathering nonsense to make himself feel better. Keith had already come to terms with his eventual death. Sheppard had not. Who was the more mature one, then - the military commander of Atlantis or a Wraith kid? But all the same, it was the instinct that had driven Sheppard to rescue Rodney. He refused to allow someone to help him so much without expecting anything in return. Keith had given him everything - the least Sheppard could do was to give him hope.

"You are being foolish, John," Keith said. He settled onto the bench again, drawing his knees to his chest and lowering his head. Sheppard felt that he should comfort Keith, but what kind of comfort could he give that wasn't false? He hated to see Keith miserable, but he hated lying too. So he could only stand there, racking his brain for a solution to the seemingly unsolvable problem before him.

Then it hit him.

"Wait a minute, I've got it! The - the retrovirus, yeah! We have a retrovirus that can - "

"I know what this retrovirus of yours does. Don't think I haven't heard_, _John." Keith lifted his head to glower at Sheppard with his visible eye. "Yes...it would make me human. But it would also cost me my memory."

Disappointment settled in the pit of Sheppard's stomach.. "But I thought you didn't like your life as a Wraith..."

"I do not like what I am," Keith said coldly. "And I'll admit that most of my memories are not positive. But I...there were some. Some things, no matter how bad, that I don't want to forget. And other things that were actually good..." His voice became barely a whisper, and he had become immersed in the floor. "Luka, the sun...I don't want lose them."

Sheppard had no idea what Keith meant by "Luka," and he figured that as a human Keith would still be able to make good memories about the sun, but he didn't dare protest. Not when Keith sounded so...injured. More abject than Sheppard had ever seen him. No, he wouldn't force this change on Keith without his consent.

So they were back on square one.

"Well," said Keith, shaking his head to clear the hair from his face. "Now that we've taken care of _that_ - " but of course they hadn't " - we can move on to _this." _His hands flew to his coat and Sheppard automatically tried to stop him, but he realized that Keith wasn't trying to remove the garment but retrieving something he'd hidden inside it.

Damn, that thing must have a lot of room inside it. Perhaps that was the reason why Keith wore a coat two sizes too big for him.

"Here," Keith said, standing up and holding something out. It looked a little like Sheppard's image of the prophecies in _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix _(yes, he'd read all the books, not his favorite but they helped him pick up the hot technicians, many of whom were Potterfen). A dusty, cobwebby sphere the size of a tennis ball. Except it wasn't made of spun glass but Wraith tendrils. Sheppard stared at it, wondering what it was. Not a prophecy, certainly?

Keith offered him a satisfied little smile that came dangerously close to crossing into smirk territory. Sheppard didn't get what Keith was so pleased about, but that was because he had no idea what the ball was.

"What the hell is that?" he said.

"Intel," Keith said.. "Everything I was able to download off the base's systems. Well, that is, everything I have clearance to view. Which admittedly isn't much, but still...I understand your expedition has been lacking adequate information on the Wraith. I'm sure they'd appreciate this gift."

Sheppard stared into Keith's wide, moon-like eyes and realized that he'd underestimated the kid's cunning by about half. After some time, he found his voice and said, "_Well, _Keith. You're one clever son of a bitch, aren't you?"

"Take it to Dr. Weir. I don't know if it will be compatible with your systems - computers are not my strong point - but I'm sure Dr. McKay will figure out a way." The next instant, Sheppard found the sphere deposited into his hands. "Let us see what they say about trust after that."

Sheppard tightened his grip around the sphere - it felt as squishy as the walls of the cell he'd had escaped forever. It wasn't hard to return Keith's smile. "Yeah. Let's see."

* * *

"Are you serious?" Weir said, her expression torn betwen disbelief and cautious hope. She stared at the Wraith sphere that Sheppard had presented with a guess-what-I-got-for-Christmas-and-it-isn't-coal smile plastered on his face. The rest of the team, gathered around the meeting table, displayed various mixtures of the same disbelief and wary optimism. Ronon was smack dab in the middle of disbelief territory, with Teyla very close, while Rodney and Carson leaned a little closer towards optimism. Not a single member of the team wasn't staring at the unassuming sphere in the middle of the table.

"Well, yeah," said Sheppard. His Christmas grin hadn't receded a millimeter. "Keith seemed pretty damn serious to me. And it's exactly the kind of thing he'd do - that kid always goes above and beyond if he can help it. He was like that back when I was captured, too."

"You seem to know him...quite well," Weir ventured.

"Yeah, sure," Sheppard said. "After about a week - "

"A _week?" _Rodney interrupted. "What the hell, you've only been gone for what, two days, give or take?"

In an instant Sheppard rounded on Rodney. "_What? _Are you kidding?I was in there for at least a week!"

Before Sheppard and Rodney's disagreement could spiral into a full-on argument, Weir broke it up by saying, "So, John. Do we have any way to confirm that what Keith says is true? That this device really does contain all the intel he says it does?"

"Well..." Rodney answered even though Weir hadn't been addressing him. "Well...I couldn't tell for certain, but maybe I could hook it up to my computer and see what I'm able to glean from it. I mean, it might be difficult to get it to synchronize with, um, Earth technology, but you know me, I'll figure out a way."

"All right," Weir said. "We'll leave that to you, Rodney. Alert us the instant you find anything useful."

Rodney didn't wait to grab the sphere. He stood up, shoving his chair far back, and walked out of the room. The team watched him depart before all eyes turned to Sheppard again.

"Well, John," Weir said. "We'll soon see if your Wraith friend is telling the truth."

"Yeah," was all Sheppard could think to say. "Yeah. Soon, hopefully. I mean, it's not like we can hold him in there forever."

They all knew what he meant. He didn't have to clarify for them, and nor did he want to.

* * *

Harry Potter references FTW. I started rereading those books this summer, and damn, I remember why I loved them so much.

Please do review.


	11. Debt

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Eleven: Debt_

The "everyone meets Keith" chapter. The most has been changed about the prison scenes; I didn't anticipate the banter between Keith and the guards (especially Lt. Samuels), but it turned out nicely, and of course, there's a little more on the Keith-Schebner connection. Which will really be explored in chapter thirteen. There's been some changes to the Keith-Ronon confrontation as well.

* * *

Sheppard found Rodney in his lab. The Canadian scientist was leaning over his laptop and frowning intently at the screen The sphere was hooked to the computer by several wires, and long lines of Wraith text ran across the monitor.

"Wow, that was quick!" Sheppard said.

"_Whoa! _Whoa whoa whoa whoawhoawhoawhoa _whoa!" _Rodney jumped and upset a cup of coffee next to his elbow. Thankfully the cup was empty, but that didn't save it from tumbling off the table and shattering on the floor. "Whoa - hey_, _what's the big idea, sneaking up on me like that!"

"Sorry 'bout that, Rodney," Sheppard sighed. "But I'm surprised. You were able to get information from that so soon? It's been, what, only three hours..."

"Yeah, well," snapped Rodney, flashing Sheppard an ugly glare - he was not ready to forgive Sheppard for making him break his (empty) coffee cup. "Sure, I've managed to retrieve the information, but my Wraith isn't the best, so it's kinda difficult to figure out what it's actually saying."

"Ask Keith, then," said Sheppard.

"_What? _What - what - I'm not - I mean - " Rodney stammered. "I mean, my Wraith is passable_, _okay? And from what I've been able to glean...a lot of this information is pretty much useless."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sheppard raised an eyebrow.

"It means what it means," Rodney said most unhelpfully. "It's a lot of logistic stuff, having to do with the base's day to day operations. Not very useful when it comes to the Wraith in general."

"Keith did say he didn't have very high clearance," Sheppard said. "But there's gotta be something we can use."

"Yeah, some. I found out how well-defended the base was, as well as the address of the planet it's on. In case, you know...anyone wants some revenge," Rodney said. "And - oh yeah. You're right."

"Right? About what?" Sheppard asked.

"About how long you were imprisoned," Rodney said. When Sheppard continued fixing him with his "I don't get it" look, Rodney threw his hands into the air and said, "Remember? We argued back in the meeting room about how long you've been there."

"Yeah, a week_," _Sheppard said. "Either your sense of time is - "

"Well, no," Rodney said. "If the information in here is correct, the planet the base is on rotates around its axis at approximately three times the rate that Lantea does."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning that one day on Lantea would equal about, uh, three days on that planet. Give or take. So what was a week to you on that planet was a little over two days for us."

"Is that so?" Sheppard drove a palm into his forehead. "Well - gee - that makes sense! And I thought you people were just being slow about rescuing me."

Rodney looked affronted. "Of course not! You have no idea, Sheppard, I spent every waking moment - "

"I know, I _know, _Rodney." Sheppard cut off his friend before he could begin to rant. "And thanks for that. For looking for me. But I got out on my own, didn't I?"

Rodney looked like he wasn't about to let this tangent drop, but only for a moment, and then he returned to the laptop. "So, uh...there's a section I've kind of been unable to translate. I'm _thinking _it discusses the Wraith's research into humans, which is something I'd really like to see. Maybe it'd shed some light on their society, their physiology. I bet Carson would really appreciate it."

"But you haven't been able to translate it," Sheppard said."Right?"

"Well, no...not as accurately or thoroughly as I'd like to," Rodney said reluctantly. "It starts using a lot of what I _think _are technical biology terms that I obviously don't understand. It's kind of a shame, but..."

"Keith," Sheppard suggested, springing his plan once again. After all, the only way his friends were going to get to trust Keith was to get to know him. "Keith knows. That's his area of study. Hell, he probably wrote all those files. Why don't you go talk to him?"

"What? _What? _Are you - I mean - you've gotta be kidding!" Rodney's eyes grew to the size of suacers. "But he's a Wraith!"

"Yeah, and he saved my ass_, _Rodney," shot back Sheppard. "Look...just go talk to him. Okay? He'll be more than happy to help you. It won't hurt. And if you're scared, that's what the guards in the brig are for, yeah?"

Rodney opened his mouth, presumably to keep on arguing, but then clamped his mouth shut again. "O-okay. All right, then. Fine. I guess I'll go see your little Wraith friend..."

* * *

Rodney found the Wraith - apparently "Keith" - wedged in the corner of his cell, as close to the bars as he dared, and craning his neck forward. It looked like he was trying to stare into the cell next to him, but nobody was in it. Unlike Sheppard, Rodney did not enter Keith's cell but stopped a safe distance from it, which to him was the opposite side of the room.

Schebner unleashed a high-pitched giggle, which did nothing for the scientist's nerves. "You shut up," shouted one of the guards. This comforted Rodney more than he'd admit.

"Schebner," Keith mumbled.

"Lord Wraith!" Schebner said after another stream of giggles.

"Shut up!" yelled the guard again. "Listen, you two, you'd better not start communicating or we're gonna keep one of you stunned, got it?"

"Do you even know who this other prisoner is?" Keith said, still in a mumble.

"Doesn't matter," the guard said. "Keep your mouth shut, Wraith, or I'll shut it for you."

This guard certainly liked to make threats, Rodney thought.

"Of course, Lt. Samuels. I wouldn't dream of contesting your authority," Keith said. He sounded slightly sarcastic, which kind of bowled Rodney over. He hadn't thought Wraith capable of sarcasm.

But Keith, he had to admit, was not a typical Wraith. He was about a foot shorter than typical for the commander caste, and his eyes were wide and moon-colored. At least, what little of his eyes that Rodney could see beneath his Sadako-esque curtain of hair.

"Why don't you move, Wraith," demanded Lt. Samuels. "Face it, we're never gonna let you see the other prisoner, so you might as well - "

"I just want to know if his name is Schebner or not," Keith snapped. "Can't you fulfill a simple request?"

"No, and shut up - oh, hey, Dr. McKay," said Lt. Samuels; he'd glimpsed Rodney over his shoulder. Rodney offered him a flutter of a wave.

"Well, uh, hi," Rodney said, stepping forward so that he was directly in front of Keith's cell. He had the feeling the Wraith's eyes moved beneath his hair to focus on the scientist's face. "Um, I'd like to talk to the prisoner a little? Yeah? If it's okay?"

"Hee hee, the Wraith will rise, yes they will!" cried Schebner.

Lt. Samuels stomped over to Schebner's cell and pointed his stun gun directly at Schebner's face. "You shut your goddamned trap or - "

With great effort, Rodney tore his attention away from the drama unfolding with Schebner and focused on Keith. The Wraith had unfolded himself from the wall and strode forward so that he was staring directly at Rodney. He'd even brushed the hair out of his face so that his eyes were visible. Rodney discovered that he didn't much like this Wraith's stare. It was so piercing, and he wondered if Keith needed to blink.

"Why, hello there, Dr. McKay. It's nice to meet you," Keith said.. "Are you having any success with your work?"

"Uh..." said Rodney, rubbing his hands together just to do something with them. "Uh...well. Kinda. Kinda sorta."

_Very suave, big guy! _he told himself fiercely. But still, it was hard to be suave when a life-sucking alien stood on the other side of the bars! He had the right to be a little nervous. Even though the life-sucking alien wasn't doing anything halfway threatening. Hell, he'd greeted Rodney as politely as a British gentleman. Much more politely than most humans treated him.

"Have you found anything of use to you?" said Keith. "I...I'm afraid that there isn't too much information pertaining to tactical and security matters. I didn't have the clearance to view those..."

"Um." Rodney paused to gather his wits. "Um...so you're a scientist."

Keith nodded. "Yes, I am. I studied humans."

"_Humans fall before the Wraith, before the Wraith," _Schebner sang to the tune of "London Bridge Is Falling Down."

"All right, can you _please _turn him off!" Rodney yelled, rounding on the two marines who were now heckling Schebner.

"He's not a TV show!" shouted Lt. Samuels.

"Stun him or something! I'm trying to have a conversation here, dammit!"

"It's all right, Dr. McKay." Keith cut in. "Eventually, you start tuning him out."

"Same way I just tune out Zelenka's whining, huh," Rodney said with a little chuckle. He caught himself in a flash - was he laughing at something a Wraith had said? No, that couldn't be. It didn't matter if Keith had yet to snarl or say "I am your death." He was still a Wraith, still deadly.

When Keith spoke, his voice was soft and hesitant. "You are afraid of me, Dr. McKay."

_Want a gold star, Captain Obvious? _he thought, but didn't voice this thought. That'd have been suicide. Instead, Rodney shrugged and manged, "Uh, yeah. Well. What of it?"

"But why? I'm not going to hurt you. I won't hurt John and I'll never hurt any of his friends," Keith said, his voice quiet, but his every word flashed with fierce determination. "I promise, Dr. McKay."

Rodney was so taken aback by the passion in Keith's voice - not just passion, but sincerity - that he had nothing to say. He could only stand there, open-mouthed, staring at Keith as if he'd grown a second head. For all means and intents, he had. No Wraith talked that way. _John. _He called Colonel Sheppard "John."

"It is a promise, Dr. McKay," the Wraith said. "And I do not go back on my word."

Rodney should have scoffed at that - if there was one thing he'd learned about the Wraith, it was that promises meant nothing to them. Yet here was this strange silvery-eyed Wraith, talking with no guile, no hint of deception, about making a promise and keeping it. For the first time, Rodney found himself understanding why Sheppard trusted Keith so much.

"Uh...Keith..." he said. "Keith...what exactly _are _you to Sheppard?"

Keith blinked for the first time. "Hmm. I don't know. I wonder."

"Oh. Okay," was all Rodney could say.

His stupid statement was punctuated by a new paroxysm of giggling from Schebner. He whirled around indignantly to face the other cell, where the prisoner was rocking back and forth on the bench with his head thrown back. The guards were pointing their stun guns at Schebner and they were conferring amongst themselves - it seemed they were debating whether to stun him or not.

"Stun him, goddammit!" Rodney screamed. "How do you _stand _it? Staying here all day listening to him babble - "

"Be glad you don't have our jobs, then, Dr. McKay," Lt. Samuels said with a scowl. "Are you done yet?"

"No," Rodney said - he had yet to even talk about the real reason he'd come here, and that was to get Keith to help him to translate. Somehow, he felt that Keith would help him without protest. "Hey, listen, uh - "

Horror of horrors, his earjack crackled and Zelenka's annoyingly familiar voice issued from it. _"Rodney, um, we have something that you need to see."_

"Can't it wait_?" _snapped Rodney, irritated.

"_No, it cannot!" _cried Zelenka. "_Listen, you had better get down here as soon as possible - "_

"Okay, _okay, _I'm coming. Just - just give me a sec. It's kind of a long way from the brig to the lab, you know," said Rodney. He turned to Keith and waved a little at the Wraith since he didn't know what else to do.

"Wait, Dr. McKay, about this Schebner - " began Keith.

"Hey, I'll be back, so don't go anywhere!" shouted Rodney, and he only realized how stupid his words must have sounded when he'd exited the brig and reached the hall. Of course, Keith wasn't going _anywhere _- he was stuck in the cell!

"But...I can't," Keith said after Rodney had left. He sighed, shrugged, and resumed his attempts at peering into Schebner's cell.

* * *

"So, how are you holding up, Keith?" said Dr. Carson Beckett. "Don't worry - you might feel a wee bit uncomfortable but this will be over quickly."

"No, no, I'm perfectly all right. Thank you for your concern, Dr. Beckett," Keith said. His arm was extended and his sleeve rolled back so Carson could insert a needle into his arm and collect a blood sample.

"Ah, no problem," said Carson, a bit flustered.

No, not just a bit_. _Here he was, sitting next to and holding a conversation with a Wraith! All the same, he didn't feel the same sense of danger and urgency as he had when he'd collected samples from an unconscious Steve. The doctor couldn't deny what Colonel Sheppard had said - Keith _was _a different kind of Wraith. Wide-eyed, soft-spoken, and best of all, cooperative_. _Perhaps it was because the marines were aiming stun guns at Keith's head.

But somehow Carson didn't think that was it.

"All done," Carson said, slipping the needle out of the Wraith's forearm and examining the black blood collected in the syringe. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome," Keith said, lowering his head in the suggestion of a bow. He rolled down his sleeve again, but not before Carson saw that the small needle puncture had already healed over.

"Really, thank you," insisted Carson as he packed away his medical gear. "You don't know how much of a benefit this is to us. There's still so much we don't know about Wraith biology, and, well...I'm glad you're willing to help us. But I have to ask - why?"

Sheppard had said that Keith was a "nice guy", and Carson was finding that evaluation very hard to disagree with, even though Keith was a Wraith. But Sheppard himself hadn't understood why Keith had helped him so much; Carson, too, could see no reason for Keith to so willingly ally with the expedition. Willing enough to offer himself for research and give the team valuable intel. There was nothing in it for Keith; the Wraith must know this.

Keith blinked. "I...ah. John believes he owes me something because I helped him, but..."

He paused for an inordinate period of time. The only sound in the brig was the pacing of the marines guarding Schebner and Schebner's snores (the insane man had only fallen asleep after the guards had slipped sedatives into his food). Carson was patient enough to wait, because he sensed that what Keith was about to say was highly important. The young Wraith lowered his head before speaking again.

"But John is wrong. I am not the one who has helped him_. _He may not realize it but..._he _is the one who has helped _me. _I had no life back there. No life, no hope. I was an outcast among my people. If I had stayed, I would not have...that is to say...John gave me hope_. _For the very first time, I realized there was something more, and I had the means to achieve it. John helped _me _escape. And now...I...well. I owe him."

"I see," said Carson, his mind whirling. "I see. So you're trying to repay your debt by helping us?"

Keith said, "Yes, Dr. Beckett. That is why I'm helping you."

Who would have thought it. _A Wraith with a sense of honor..._ Carson would be lying if he said he wasn't overwhelmed - yet in a way, he understood. Understood the way that Keith spoke about Sheppard, with such admiration, with such...oh, no, it was too strange to think of it that way. But Carson couldn't deny the way Keith's eyes lit up when he said Sheppard's name.

"Well, I'll be seeing you later, lad," said Carson, giving Keith one last smile as he stepped outside the cell. The bars slid shut again and the force field hummed back in place. Keith returned Carson's smile, surprising the doctor in a pleasant way.

"Wait - Dr. Beckett," said Keith suddenly, as Carson turned to leave. Carson turned around.

"Yes? What is it?" he said.

"Well...I was just wondering..." Keith said. He shook his head, his white hair swinging, before speaking again. "I just wanted to know...when can I be let out of this cell?"

Carson felt a stab of very real sympathy for for the Wraith. He shook his head too, and said, "I'm sorry, lad. I don't know. I'm not in charge of that sort of thing. I'm very sorry..."

"No, no, it's okay." Keith smiled again. "I shouldn't have - "

"Oh, no, no, no, I understand," Carson said. "Listen - I'll try to put in a good word for you with Elizabeth, all right?"

Keth nodded again. "Thank you, Dr. Beckett."

"No problem," said Carson, and he left the brig to thoroughly examine in his lab the samples he'd taken from Keith in his lab...after he argued Keith's case with Dr. Weir, of course.

* * *

Sheppard sat in the Atlantis mess hall, toying with the salad on his tray. The food looked and smelled heavenly, but for some reason he just wasn't hungry. Maybe it was because he'd survived on nuts and dry biscuits and gray guel for the past week, but he suspected it was something else. That something else had long white hair, large silvery eyes, and slits in his hands.

_And _was still stuck in the city's brig.

It had been almost two days since Sheppard's return to Atlantis, and so far Dr. Weir hadn't shown a sign letting Keith out his cell. Sheppard couldn't say he didn't blame her. After all, Keith _was _a Wraith. Still. After two days, everyone should have figured out that Keith meant them no harm. At the very least Carson had figured it out - he and Sheppard had talked not long ag, and Carson had said that Keith was a nice kid who'd been an invaluable help not just to Sheppard but to the entire expedition, and to keep him locked up was inhumane.

As for the others, Sheppard didn't know. Rodney had disappeared into the lab to fix some fatal mistake an underling had made, so he was too busy to tell Sheppard what he thought of Keith. Sheppard had already spoken to Teyla about visiting Keith, which he supposed she was doing at the moment. As for Ronon...the big guy seemed to be making himself scarce. Sheppard hadn't seen him once since Ronon had first come into the infirmary to greet him a few hours after his return.

Sheppard's musings on Ronon were cut short when a famliar voice said, "John. May I join you?"

The colonel looked up, surprised, to see that Teyla had appeared and was standing opposite him. "Oh, sure. Go ahead."

"Thank you, John," Teyla slid in the chair opposite Sheppard, setting down the tray she was carrying. "So...how are you feeling?"

Sheppard smiled. "I feel great. I wasn't injured _that _badly, you know. Carson says I could probably return to active duty any time now."

"That's very good to hear," said Teyla, her smile widening just the slightest. "I take the Wraith did not leave you with lasting damage?"

"Nope," Sheppard said, spearing a cherry tomato with his spork. It spurted liquid and seeds into the salad dressing. "Thanks to Keith."

"Ah, Keith," Teyla said, looking a little awkward. "I went to speak with him."

'Did you now?" said Sheppard after he'd popped the leaking tomato into his mouth. "So. How was it?"

"It was...ah..." Teyla shook her head. "He was...very _interesting. _I have never seen any Wraith like him before."

"Yeah, same here," said Sheppard. "Keith is different."

Teyla said a little ruefully, "He seemed rather nervous around me. It seemed that he sensed there was something different about me - perhaps my Wraith DNA - and didn't know how to behave. It was very strange." She stared pensively to the side. "I have never before seen a Wraith at a loss for words."

Sheppard laughed. "Ha ha, yeah. Better get used to it, 'cause Keith's at a loss for words more often than not. That kid never knows what to say."

"You two seem to have become..." Teyla paused. "It's very unusual. A friendship between a Wraith and a human."

_Friendship? _Keith's voice rang in Sheppard's ears, saying with ferocious conviction, "_I love you, Colonel Sheppard, I love you, I - "_

Sheppard shook his head to clear his head. He did not want to be reminded of Keith's supposed "love" of him.

"Yeah," he sighed, resting his chin in his hands. "He's a good kid, Keith. I only wish Elizabeth could see that. He's not trying to sabotage the city - he saved my damn life. You'd think we could treat him a little better."

"Still, he _is _a Wraith," said Teyla. "Dr. Weir...and all of us...do have a right to be cautious."

"And I understand that," Sheppard said. "But it's been two freaking days! Isn't that enough time to determine if he's a threat to Atlantis or not? Well, all the evidence says he isn't! He helped me escape, he's cooperating with Carson's research, he even hacked his own base's computers to download all that intel! And according to Rodney, it's _good _intel. So just what are we waiting for?"

"I can...I can see your point, John," sighed Teyla. "I, too, do not believe him to be a threat. However, the final decision _is _Elizabeth's. And besides..."

Whatever Teyla was going to say next would have to wait, because at that moment Ronon strode to the table, balancing a trey in one hand. "Hey," he said gruffly. "Mind if I have a seat?"

"Sure, go right ahead," said Sheppard, a little surprised. Why was Ronon talking to him now when he'd been avoiding Sheppard for the past two days? Although Sheppard had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why Ronon had been keeping clear of him...

"So..." said Ronon, looking at Sheppard as if he was expecting Sheppard to blow up. Which needless to say annoyed the colonel.

"Yeah? What is it?" he said.

"Are you sure you're okay?" said Ronon. Sheppard blinked.

"Yeah, I am. Beckett gave me a clean bill of health, so here I am," he said. "Besides, I _feel _perfectly fine."

"But the Wraith..." Ronon paused. "They didn't _do _anything to you, did they?"

"Huh? _What?" _Sheppard was so taken aback by the question that he scraped his chair backwards. "Uh - well, no. I mean, nothing permanent_. _They did feed on me tons of times but Keith gave me my - "

Ronon's scoff was loud enough for all that the table to hear. Teyla turned to Ronon, looking concerned, and said, "Ronon - "

"What? What's the matter?" demanded Sheppard, now defensive.

"_You _know," growled Ronon. "That Wraith - "

"Keith? No, you _can't _shoot him," Sheppard snapped "He saved my life - "

"He's a _Wraith!" _yelled Ronon, surging to his feet. "Doesn't matter how polite or helpful he's acting - it's all just an act. He's having us on, you should've been the first to realize that!"

"Hey, don't go saying stuff you can't prove," Sheppard said, standing as well. He knew that Ronon's objections were perfectly valid - more than anyone Ronon had reason to hate the Wraith. But Keith wasn't a typical Wraith, he had done nothing wrong, and to hear such accusations being hurled at him was more than Sheppard could bear.

"Ronon, John, " said Teyla, standing as well and holding up her hands. "Stop this - "

"The Wraith messed with your head," Ronon said, his voice heavy with hatred. "That's why you're sticking up for them, isn't it?"

"Listen, buddy, I'm not 'sticking up' for the Wraith in general_, _I'm sticking up for Keith_," _Sheppard said.

"So what!" snarled Ronon. "There's no difference. He's a Wraith and he can't be trusted. The sooner you realize that..."

He let the words trail off, but didn't need to say anything else. Fixing Sheppard with one last glower, he whirled around and stomped off, leaving behind his lunch tray. Sheppard watched him go, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut, and turned grimly to face Teyla.

"You know how Ronon is," sighed Teyla, shrugging. "We cannot change him."

"I know," said Sheppard, shaking his head. "I know, and I understand why he's the way he is. But would it kill him to just give Keith a chance?"

Both both of them knew that was never going to happen, because Ronon was Ronon, and Keith a Wraith. It was a law as unchangeable, if not more binding, than gravity.

* * *

"Please, Elizabeth. That's all I'm asking," Sheppard said, gripping the edge's of Weir's desk and leaning forward. "Just let him out of the damn brig."

"John..." Weir shook her head. "I'm sorry, John, but - "

"Yeah, yeah, I know_, _he's a Wraith so he's dangerous!" Despite himself, he erupted. "I know. I _know. _But Elizabeth. You've been down to see Keith himself. Tell me, honestly: do you think he's a danger to us?"

Weir took in a deep breath before speaking again. "No. No... But, all the same - "

"The intel Keith gave us is good. I'm sure Rodney's already told you?"

"Yes I know he helped you escape. But John, he's a Wraith, he - "

"Look, damn it, if it wasn't for Keith I'd be _six feet under! _No, scratch that - I'd be Later's meal!" Sheppard yelled, slamming a fist into the desk; Weir winced when the papers, pens, and knicknacks on it jumped. "You know this, Elizabeth! Keith saved my life. I owe him. Allowing him his freedom, it's the least I could do for him."

"Listen, John," Weir said, her eyes flashing, "I understand what you're saying."

"Then why _don't _you let him go! Assign some marines to guard him if you're really so worried," Sheppard said. "Look - if Keith was a human_, _you wouldn't have even thought of imprisoning him, would you? Hell, you'd probably have given him a medal!"

_"_Yes, John, but the trouble is that Keith's not a human," said Weir. "Like it or not, no matter how helpful he's been, he's a Wraith. The enemy."

"_Keith's _not our enemy!" shouted Sheppard. "He doesn't think like the rest of them. He's a defector. Aren't we supposed to offer asylum to defectors?"

Weir looked ready to protest again. Well, she could go ahead and protest all she wanted. Sheppard was getting tired of arguing. He'd had this conversation too many times already, and always it ended the same. If Atlantis wanted Keith to die behind bars, then Colonel Sheppard could do nothing to stop it. It was a terrible thought but it was becoming more true with every passing second.

But to Sheppard's astonishment, Weir didn't argue. Instead, she shook her head in a resigned way before looking back at him and saying, "All right, John...I _can _see your point, not to mention you and Carson would keep badgering me about it until my hair is gray, knowing how you're like."

Sheppard smiled and she cracked a slight smile too, but when she spoke again her expression was serious. "Very well. I'll agree to release Keith - but he must have at least four marines with him round the clock."

"Fair enough," Sheppard said. "So, when are we going to release him?"

"Well...I was thinking, right about now," Weir said as she stood and headed for her office door. "You coming with me?"

Sheppard wasted no time following.

* * *

Keith had lost all sense of time during his imprisonment in the Atlantis brig. He couldn't tell if it was day or night, due to the constant darkness, but he was sure he'd been here for more than a day. It didn't matter how much time passed because every hour felt the same; him pressed in that corner, craning his neck, twisting his body, doing his best to get a view, however slight, of who was inside the cell on the far end of the brig...

Schebner, apparently. An insane prisoner called Schebner, who the guards enjoyed needling when they weren't sedating him to sleep. At least this prisoner took their attention off Keith. He couldn't stand their sneers and taunts - it was too much like the way his superiors had behaved back at the base.

He longed to talk to this Schebner, ask him questions, but every time Keith made to contact the other prisoner the guards put a quick stop to it. In fact, they didn't like it when he talked at all. The only reason he knew their names was because he'd read their nametags, a fact that disconcerted them because the room was too dark for anyone to see the tiny letters from Keith's distance. Well, perhaps too dark for a human.

Occasionally there were visits. The last one he'd gotten had been from Dr. McKay, and they had spent what felt like hours translating the information from the sphere. Keith found that he quite liked the scientist. He'd started off jumpy and cautious and couldn't talk without stammering, but by the time the two of them had gotten absorbed in their work Dr. McKay had let his wariness drop and became relaxed and much more natural. At times he even derailed the discussions about how to parse a phrase into rambling about a scientist called "Dr. Zelenka," who Dr. McKay considered far below his notice, and mourning the loss of something called "blue jello" from the cafeteria menu.

Before Dr. McKay had been a woman, Teyla Emmagan. Keith had been apprehensive about her - although she appeared human enough, something about her presence was very much like that of a Queen. When she approached he felt the same oppressive weight on his mind that always accompanied visits to his Queen, but there was something different about Teyla's. It was much less powerful, more a whisper at the edges of her presence than her entire aura. Soon he was able to relax somewhat around her, though their conversation had been much briefer than the hours he'd spent with Dr. McKay.

But no one had come around for several hours now. He felt lonely, even though the brig was hardly unoccupied. It felt strange without the perpetual hum of hundreds of Wraith communications drifting through the back of his mind. He'd never thought about his connection to the telepathic network before, and why should he? It just _was. _Now that he'd been severed from it, the loss gaped open and acute.

He could sense the humans, but their intents were not friendly. When they spoke it was to shout orders at him. He and a thickset Lt. Samuels had gotten off on a particularly bad start; Samuels was highly suspicious of Keith's efforts to see Schebner, and whenever Keith moved to the front corner of the cell he'd aim his stun gun straight at Keith's head. It was easy to ignore him, though, if he wasn't talking.

The brig door opened. Keith blinked and stepped to the front of the bars, although he didn't come near enough to activate the force field.

"Don't try anything, monster," sneered Samuels.

"Put it down, Lieutenant," said a familiar voice.

"John!" cried Keith. And, "Dr. Weir?"

Lt. Colonel John Sheppard offered him a smile and wave, but Dr. Elizabeth Weir's face was stony. Behind them were four marines.

"Open it," Weir said to the guards.

The force field hummed out of existence and the cell door opened. Keith took a step forward, but stepped back when the guards and marines aimed their guns at him. He glanced back and forth between Sheppard and Weir, apprehensive.

"John, what's going on?"

It wasn't Sheppard who spoke, but Weir. She said, "Listen, Keith. We've decided to release you from the brig."

"Really?" Keith couldn't stop the surprise from slipping into his voice. He took a breath to collect himself before saying, more calmly, "Ah. So you have finally decided to trust me."

"Yes, well..." Weir paused. "We currently don't have any reason to doubt your good faith. Nonetheless - " her tone became much more sharp " - you will have at least four marines accompanying you around the clock. Do you understand?"

As long as none of the marines were Lt. Samuels, he could handle them. Keith looked Weir in the eye and nodded. "I understand, Dr. Weir. You have the right to be cautious."

"I'm glad you understand," Weir said.

"Yeah...sorry about that," said Sheppard with an apologetic shrug. Keith shrugged in response, hoping that he was coming across as nonchalant. Guards or no, he was getting released...and that potentially meant he would have an easier time getting answers. Answers about Schebner...

"Come," Weir said. "We'll show you to your new quarters."

"Yes. Hopefully, they'll be more comfortable than..._this," _said Keith.

Samuels' scowl intensified. "This is already more than you deserve, Wraith," he spat.

"Hey, easy, Lieutenant," Sheppard said, throwing Samuels a glare.

Weir spoke above them. "The guards will give you permission to leave your quarters if you ask for it. However, there are certain areas that, guard or no guard, you will not be allowed to access. The gate room, for instance, will be off limits. Do you understand?"

That was already more than he could hope for. Why would he want to use the Stargate, anyway? He was safe here. "Very well."

"Good," said Weir. "Let's go."

She turned around to leave, and the four marines with her followed without a word. Sheppard fell into step with Keith, and together the group made their ways into the hallway of the city proper.

Keith blinked, startled by the city's midday brightness. His eyes adjusted quickly and he soon darted glances back and forth, drinking in all the sights. This was his first time getting a good view of Atlantis. He hadn't seen much besides the brig, and on his trip from the gate room to the brig he'd been too disoriented to notice his surroundings. Now, he couldn't keep his eyes off the soaring ceilings, Ancient decor, and the uniformed personnel who backed off, surprised, when they saw him...

The young Wraith sighed inside. He should already be used to their viscerally familiar reactions.

"I made sure you got a room with a view," Sheppard was saying. "You'll like it, Keith."

He smiled, but as quickly as it'd come the smile slipped from his face and his entire body tensed. Keith stopped mid-step, startled by the sudden change that had fallen over Sheppard. He expected the marines to coerce him into walking again, but they too had stopped.

"Oh, hey there, Ronon," said Sheppard, his tone casual, but the tension had not left his body. He resembled a tightly coiled spring.

A man stepped straight into the path of the marine convoy, a tall, well-built man with dreadlocks and a dangerous glower on his face. A glower directed not at Sheppard or Weir or the marines, but -

Keith took a step back. Nobody had ever looked at him like that before. Later and other Wraith was always sneering and disdainful, and Sheppard's anger was fleeting. This man...hatred was etched into every line of his face and blazed in his eyes like twin infernos. He was looking at Keith as if...as if he wanted nothing more than to kill the Wraith on the spot.

Keith would be lying if he said he wasn't terrified.

"Hello, Ronon," Weir was saying. "What is it?"

Ronon ignored Weir's question. He walked closer and closer to Keith - Shepard and the marines closed in around the Wraith - and growled, "Where're you taking that?"

_Taking what? _Keith wondered, until he realized that Ronon was referring to - to _him, _of all people. Indignity flared inside him.

"We're taking Keith to his quarters," Sheppard said.

"You're releasing him from the brig?" Ronon said. "Why?"

"_Because," _said Sheppard, his tone exasperated, "we don't have any reason to keep him there."

Ronon rounded on Keith. "Hey, listen_, _you. I don't care what Sheppard says, or what anyone here says about you. You can act as nice and polite and helpful as you want. Doesn't make a difference. I know what you really are..._Wraith." _

Keith could barely breathe. He was sick of this, so damned sick and tired of being treated like an enemy. After everything he'd done for him, these people remained cold and inplacable, unwilling to show him any gratitude. What more did they want for him? Would anything he did be enough for Ronon's blazing eyes?

"Yes, I'm aware you do," he said coldly. "I am Wraith. Unfortunately, that is a fact I cannot change. Now, if you will please move_. _I have places to go - _umph!"_

Before Sheppard and the marines could stop him, Ronon's muscular arms shot out and closed around Keith's neck - and he slammed the Wraith hard into the wall. Keith gagged as pain danced up his spine; his hands automatically seized Ronon's arm, trying to yank it off. This incited Ronon more, and he tightened his grip to the point where Keith couldn't draw breath - his windpipe had shrunk to the size of a straw. He thrashed blindly, but he wasn't even strong enough to handle Later. How could he hope to defeat this seething mass of muscle and hatred?_  
_

"_Ronon! That's enough!" _Oh Sheppard, Colonel Sheppard, his voice reached Keith's ears like a balm. He and two marines grabbed Ronon, and it took all of their efforts to drag the big man backwards. Roaring, Ronon released his grip on Keith. The Wraith slid to the floor, his coat billowing around him and his heart stuck in his throat.

"That's it - damn it - _drop _it, Ronon - back off - !" Sheppard and the marines fought Ronon like he was a bucking horse; Sheppard had his arms around Ronon's chest while the marines clung to his arms and legs. The ones who weren't holding Ronon had aimed their guns at him. Weir stood in front of him, berating him.

"Ronon - that's _enough! _Believe me, I understand what you are feeling but that is _no _excuse to just assualt - " she shouted over Ronon's roars of rage and Sheppard's swearing.

"Damn it..." growled Ronon. He had stopped struggling against Sheppard and the marines; instead he chose to direct all his anger at Keith like a white-hot knife. "Listen, you. You do _anything _to Sheppard, I'll make sure you won't live to regret it. _Got it?"  
_

Keith, despite the uncontrollable shaking that had arrested his thin frame, managed a humorless smirk. "Oh, I believe _they_ - " he indicated the marines, " - will have already 'taken care' of it by the time you get to me. And I will not harm John. You have my word."

"Yeah, the word of a Wraith_," _snarled Ronon. "Don't make me laugh. Any promise you make is worth squat."

"My word is the only thing I can guarantee," Keith said, pulling himself to his feet. "If you can't accept that, that is fine by me. I do not need your approval."

"And I don't need yours, Wraith." Ronon glared at him one last time before turning around and stalking off. The air where he'd been standing seemed a few degrees hotter than the rest of the hall. Sheppard and Weir watched Ronon go, their expressions helpless, before Sheppard turned back to Keith.

"Hey, you okay?" he said. Without waiting for an answer, he went on. "Uh...sorry about that. But Ronon really hates the Wraith. His entire world was culled; he's the only survivor. And on top of that the Wraith made him a Runner."

"I see." Keith exhaled. He'd never encountered Runners before and now he never wanted to, if they were all like Ronon. "But I was not the one who culled his world and I was not the one who made him a Runner. There's no need for him to hate me."

"He hates all Wraith," Sheppard said. "He won't stop until every last Wraith in the Galaxy is dead."

Keith shook his head and snorted before turning away from Sheppard. He didn't know why, but Sheppard's attempts to justify what Ronon had done aggravated him. Well, he _did _know why. His hand flew to his aching throat and massaged. True, he'd been manhandled before - mostly by Later - but he'd always known that he had done something specific that had gotten Later angry. But this time, he'd done nothing except for exist. And that was enough to get Ronon to attack him as viciously as Later would have. It was a new experience and Keith already decided he didn't like it.

"Hey, get a move on," grumbled the marine behind Keith, prodding the Wraith with his P90. Keith hurled the marine an ugly glare before striding down the hall after Sheppard and Weir again. Somehow, the novelty of getting new quarters had already faded.

* * *

Keith's emo hissy fit about Ronon stays, because you all like him that way too.

And yes, there will be a new chapter! Chapter twelve is solidly titled "Transaction" and is about halfway written. Look forward to it! In the meantime, review.


	12. Transaction

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Twelve: Transaction_

Amazing. It's a new chapter.

Yep, I lied in the note. I _am _going to continue this. The reason I petered out in the first place was because I didn't have a concrete plan, but now that I've plotted this story to its end, I feel much more confdent about continuing. It will be about twenty-six chapters, if my current planning holds out.

In the meantime, enjoy the first new chapter in almost two years!

* * *

"Look out! We're coming in hot!" Sheppard roared into his jack while aiming his gun over his shoulder. A mob of villagers thundered across the broad meadow after the team, roaring inarticulately. Thank everything that the Stargate was only ten meters ahead; Rodney had already raced to the DHD and dialed it, connecting the wormhole to Atlantis.

Just another day of adventure for the team. Sheppard had finally been cleared to return to active duty (Carson had had no choice - the colonel had been in perfect health), and the team's first mission since he'd returned had been to scout out an average, medievail society on an average, temperate-forested planet. What the team hadn't counted on was the village's xenophobia born from centuries of Wraith attacks: their standard practice was to attack any outsiders who approached. As Sheppard and the team were finding out the hard way.

Sheppard hurled himself out of the way of an arrow that had almost hit him in the back. Teh villagers' main weapons were arrows that they shot from crossbows - earlier, they'd even been shooting flaming arrows. Good thing it seemed the villagers had run out of those. These arrows were ordinary, but even if they weren't bullets they were still dangerous, and deadly on those open plain. The only reason the team hadn't been killed hit was because they had better long-range weapons, which they used to fire with relish at the villagers.

"Come on, come on, let's go let's go let's _go!" _screamed Rodney, who had been waiting at the DHD for the rest of the team. Apparently he'd waited to his limit because the instant his teammates came within three meters of the Stargate he hurled himself through the stabilized wormhole.

Sheppard whirled around to pop off a final volley of warning shots at the villagers, but this incensed them more and they fired a new hail of arrows, roaring like mad dogs. Sheppard hurled himself to the grass to dodge the worst of them and they landed thunk-thunk in front of and behind him, sticking out of the grass like dozens of exclamation points.

He picked himself up and dashed for the Stargate again, blessing the crossbows' long reloading time - for a few seconds he'd be free to run. Teyla and Ronon were quick behind him -

"_Arrghh!" _Sheppard whirled around, alarmed, when he heard the roar of pain and rage. Ronon lurched, clutching his shoulder that had been struck by an arrow. Blood was spurting from between his fingers and the injury was clearly deep. Sheppard's stomach churned.

"Ronon, are you all right?" demanded Teyla, grabbing Ronon by the good arm to support his weight over her shoulder. Ronon growled and threw her arm off, before firing a few blasts from his gun at the villagers Several of them fell with heavy thuds, causing their comrades' roars to rise in pitch.

"Hurry up!" called Sheppard. He was right in front of the gate, but he waited until Ronon and Teyla arrived (Ronon having accepted Teyla's help) and together they dove through the event horizon.

Sheppard slammed hard on to the floor, much like he had only three days earlier when he'd escaped with Keith. This time he got ahold of himself quicker and leapt to his feet just in time to see that Ronon and Teyla had made it through. Immediately he shouted, "Hey, hey, we need a medical team - "

"Who was it? Wraith?" demanded Weir, running up to intercept them.

"No, absolutely _insane _villagers!" shrieked Rodney. He went about five shades paler when his eyes landed on Ronon. "Oh, oh my _God! _Oh, oh - "

Adding to the pandemonium was Carson followed by a medical team. They gathered around Ronon, who'd collapsed to his knees, groaning; blood splattered the floor. "My God, Ronon, what happened!"

"He got shot by an arrow," Sheppard explained. The medical team was helping a surprisingly cooperative Ronon on to a stretcher. The arrow had gone in deep, and the blood pooling around the wound was thick and dark. A medic shoved Sheppard aside in his effort to get near Ronon.

"Aye, _I'll _say!" said Carson. "Come on, let's go, hurry - " Shouting a flurry of orders to his medical team, he and the stretcher disappeared from the gate room.

* * *

"So? How is he?" said Dr. Weir.

"Not good, I'm afraid," sighed Carson, shaking his head. "It wouldn't be much of a problem if it was just an arrow; it'd only be a matter of stopping the bleeding. But the arrow that shot Ronon was apparently treated with a poisonous substance."

Weir cocked her head. "_How _poisonous, exactly?"

The look Carson gave her answered without words. Weir sucked in a deep breath. "Just...how bad is it?"

"The prognosis isn't good," Carson said. "The poison's spread from the wound throughout the rest of his body. It's wreaking utter havoc on his insides. His heart rate's erratic and his breathing's only slightly better, and he'll probably only deteriorate as time passes. I hate to say this but...we might even be looking at eventual organ failure."

"I see," Weir said slowly, her head spinning. "Is there - is there anything you can do to stop it?"

Carson said, "Well, we've managed to stabilize his heart rate and he's breathing again, but...it's only delaying the inevitable. If we don't do anything to flush the poison out of his system, he'll..."

He paused, but then added, his voice small, "We need an antidote. It's the only thing that will work."

Weir caught on in a flash. "But you don't have an antidote."

After a long silence, Carson said, "No. We don't, because we don't know exactly what this poison _is._ I've managed to extract some from the arrow tip after we pulled it out and I've got a team working on analyzing it right now, but solely judging by its effects on Ronon, I'd have to say it's something we've never seen before."

"Are you saying that the only thing we can do is hope for the best?" Weir said. "I won't accept that, Carson. I can't just sit back while one of my people is dying - "

"I know, I _know _that, Elizabeth," Carson said. "Believe me, none of us is sitting on our hands. We're trying our hardest to keep Ronon breathing and we're analyzing the poison on a molecular level to see if we can find a way to counteract it. We're doing our best. I know it's not enough, but it's all we can do."

"No, you're right," said Weir, shaking her head. "You're right, Carson. I'm sorry. I was...out of line."

"Oh no, it's perfectly all right. I understand perfectly," Carson said. "We're _all _worried sick here. Nobody wants Ronon to die, but..."

"When will your team finish their analysis of the poison?" Weir said, cutting to a more business-like tangent. Carson blinked in surprise, but he quickly caught ahold of himself.

"Ah...we'll have preliminary results in about an hour," he said.

"All right," Weir said. "Notify me then, and keep me posted on Ronon's condition. And...good luck, Carson."

Carson nodded. "I'll do the best I can, Elizabeth."

Weir gave Carson a smile that probably came across as more of a grimace - though it was difficult to summon a real smile at a time like this. Carson replied with a non-smile of his own. Nodding at Carson - saying without words that he should get back to work - she turned around and left the infirmary. Her work there was finished. Everything was up to the medical team now.

* * *

Keith's quarters were located on one of the city's higher towers, one which had only recently been connected to the rest of the city mainframe. Many personnel, most new arrivals from Earth, were still moving into it; because it was sparsely occupied and almost everyone in it was new to Atlantis, Sheppard felt it was the best place for Keith to stay. He made sure that the Wraith had not only gotten a room with a view, but one far from questioning eyes.

The marines posted at the entrance nodded as he approached, letting him in. One of them, a stocky blonde with disheveled hair, cocked an eyebrow at him.

"You sure you don't want me to come in with you, Colonel?" he said. "He might eat you, ya know."

"If he wanted to eat me, he'd've done it already," Sheppard said. He examined the marine's uniform because he'd never seen this kid before - the nametag said "Lieutenant Derringer."

"Nice name," Sheppard said. "You new?"

Derringer grinned, a dazzling toothpaste commercial smile. "Yep. Came on the Deddy two weeks ago."

"What?"

"He means the Daedalus, sir," said another marine.

"_Deddy?" _Sheppard echoed, raising both eyebrows at the grinning Derringer.

"What, that's what it's called," Derringer said, which was not true. "Hey, by the way, nice to finally talk to you, Colonel. Heard a lot about you, all your encounters with the Wraith and whatnot. Been waiting to kick some Wraith ass myself. You _sure _you don't need me...?"

He cocked his head towards the room. Sheppard sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, already deciding that he'd had enough of this Lieutenant Derringer.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now keep guarding the door like you're supposed to, Lieutenant."

With that, he stepped inside and breathed a sigh of relief. He scanned the sparse furniture, looking for some sign of the Wraith. Keith was nowhere in sight.

Concern rose inside Sheppard, but he suppressed it and moved on from the reception area to the bedroom, which was also empty. By this point he was getting seriously worried and considered calling Keith's name, but then he noticed that the sliding door that led to the balcony was ajar. Sheppard crossed the room in three quick strides and pushed the door open.

Keith rested his elbows on the balcony railing, staring pensively across the sparkling Lantean ocean surrounding Atlantis. A gentle breeze tousled the silky strands of his hair, though he didn't seem to notice. Sheppard came up right beside him and leaned against the railing as well.

"So," he said. "Enjoying the view? I told you you'd appreciate it, didn't I?"

Keith cast Sheppard a little smile. "Yes, I do. It's very..." He paused for a long time, before casting his gaze back over the ocean. "It's very beautiful."

Sheppard returned Keith's smile, but it didn't last for long. Keith blinked at him. "Ah...John. Are you all right?"

"Huh? What makes you ask that?" said Sheppard. He had thought he'd been hiding his emotions quite well, considering...but he supposed that some of his worry was showing on his face.

"You seem...worried about something," Keith said. "I was just wondering if something was wrong?"

"Well..." Sheppard decided the truth couldn't hurt. "It's Ronon."

"Yes?" In a flash Keith's tone changed from concerned to scornful, and his face twitched into a scowl. Sheppard resisted the urge to sigh. Sure, he'd foreseen Keith and Ronon having problems, but he hadn't expected Keith to hate Ronon as badly as Ronon hated Keith. By all means Keith came across as a peaceful person who didn't like holding grudges, but...

Ronon proved that wrong.

"Look, he's been hurt," Sheppard said. "On a mission. Hurt real bad. He - he might not make it."

He swallowed after the words exited his mouth. No, he couldn't say them. Saying them gave form to them, and when they had solid form, they were easier to believe.

"Really, now?" said Keith, his tone still scornful. He folded his arms and turned away from Sheppard. "Is it that bad?"

"Yeah," said Sheppard. "He was shot by a poisoned arrow by some crazy villagers."

"Poisoned arrow?" Keith whirled around to face Sheppard. "You _did _say 'poisoned arrow,' didn't you?"

"Yeah, but why do you wanna know?" Sheppard asked, flummoxed.

Keith's expression controted - he looked as if he was struggling with himself. When he spoke, his voice was calm but it blazed with hidden ferocity. "How long ago was it? That is, when did he get shot?"

"Look, about an hour ago or so - " Sheppard said. "But why - "

Once again Keith didn't answer the question. "That's good. We've still got time."

"Time for _what?" _protested Sheppard. "Hey, listen, Keith - "

The infirmary is not off limits to me, is it?" Keith said. He had already turned away from the balcony and was marching indoors, his strides steady and business-like beneath his flapping coat.

"Well, no, I don't think so." Sheppard started following Keith; to his surprise it was difficult to keep up with the Wraith's pace. "But Keith, what the hell is this about? I mean, you and Ronon aren't exactly on the best of terms!"

"The infirmary." Keith didn't turn around "If you wish for your...your _friend_...to live, then you'll take me to the infirmary this instant."

"Hey, I'm not the one who gets to decide, they are!" Sheppard indicated the four marines standing at the door. "And - hold ona second here!" He was disconcertingly reminded of how Keith had behaved back in the prison, right before their escape. It seemed when push came to shove, Keith turned bossy.

"All right, then," said Keith. He stopped in the doorway and glanced at the marines, who stared back at him. "I believe the I have access to the infirmary? In that case, I'd like to go there right now, if you please."

Derringer opened his mouth, looking ready to say no, but the other marines shushed him and nodded to each other and stepped aside. Keith didn't thank them, nor did he turn around to check if Sheppard was following - he entered the hall and power-walked all the way to its end. The marines had to jog to keep up, to say nothing of Sheppard.

"What the fuck's with this thing?" complained Derringer to his much more stoic companions.

That, Sheppard thought as he dashed after Keith and his marines, was a very good question.

* * *

Ronon lay on a hospital, surrounded by a forest of wires, tubes, and medical equipment. Around him a team of medics bustled, feeding him various medications through an IV drip. His injury had been cleaned and bandaged ages ago, but the arrowhead's potent poison was still circulating his veins. Carson knew that they didn't have long before Ronon succumbed to it. It was all the medical team could do to keep the big guy's heart beating. Soon, even their medications and machines would fail and...

No, he couldn't think of the inevitable. It was better to stay busy, calling out orders to the other medics. They were useless orders and the doctor knew it - in the end he was just delaying Ronon's death.

"Um, Dr. Beckett, we've got preliminary results on the poison," said a medic, running up to intecept Carson while he was adjusting Ronon's IV drip.

"Really? Oh, thank you so much - " Carson said, but his senses were snapped away from Ronon by the sound of a commotion by the infirmary entrance. Carson had spent so long in the infirmary that it had become not just a workplace, nor just a home, but a domain. A kingdom, even. He knew every intimate detail about it; he'd become so familiar with it that the slightest thing out of place was enough to catch his attention.

So he pushed his way - apologizing profusely as he did so - to the entrance, which was blocked by a gathering of astonished personnel. Peering over their shoulders, Carson's eyes fell upon a sight that made his blood run cold: there was a Wraith in the infirmary.

A Wraith! A lifesucking monster - what was it doing in his infirmary, he needed to call a security team immediately -

"Let me through!" shouted the Wraith, and the sound of its vocie snapped him back to reality. Not the harsh tones Carson had come to associate with Wraith, but the soft, whisper-light voice of a pale-eyed, slim Wraith named Keith. Behind him stood four marines and a lost-looking Colonel Sheppard.

"I don't have much time left," Keith continued, taking a step forward, but the personnel refused to allow him passage. They were all exchanging glances, many fearful, others uncertain. Few had encountered an actual Wraith before and they were all at a loss. Their instincts reacted for them, refusing to allow this creature of death into a place where life was supposed to be restored.

Carson took charge of the situation. He stepped to the forefront of the group and said, "Oh, hello there, Keith. What brings you here?"

"Hello to you too, Dr. Beckett," said Keith, polote as always. "I - I wish to come in."

"Ah, oh, of course," Carson said.. "Here, here, move aside, people, let him in."

The medics took their time obeying, most of them still trying to get a last look at Keith. It struck Carson that not all of them were hostile or even afraid; above all, they were curious. Carson supposed he'd be too if he was in the same situation, but that didn't excuse them blocking the infirmary entrance! Keith nodded his thanks to Carson before stepping inside the infirmary proper.

"So what can I do for you, lad?" said Carson, but Keith ignored him. He was striding straight towards - heaven of heavens! - Ronon Dex's bed. In an instant Carson maneuvered to the bed so that he was between it and Keith. He'd heard about Keith and Ronon's altercation yesterday; who could blame him if he suspected the worst.

"Keith, wait up, dammit!" Sheppard shouted, running up to the Wraith's side.

"Colonel Sheppard, do you have any idea - ?" Carson asked.

"No," said Sheppard. "He's never acted this way before..."

The marines followed Keith and raised their P90's, but much to the surprise of all assembled, Keith didn't try draining Ronon's life or worse. Instead he stopped a few feet from the hospital bed, one arm folding across his chest, the other hand raised to his chin. Examining Ronon. Carson watched in surprised silence, as did everyone else in the infirmary - the only sound was the irregular beeping of the heart monitor.

After what seemed like an eternity (although it was less than five minutes - Carson checked his watch), Keith suddenly whirled around. "Dr. Beckett. He was shot by a poisoned arrow, you say?"

"Um...yes," said Carson. "But unfortunately, we don't know exactly what kind of poison it is - "

"By any chance, do you still have the arrow that shot him?" Keith said. His tone was calm, business-like, in control. Unlike any Carson had heard from him before. It was a disorienting change, but somehow he didn't mind it.

"I - yeah, I have it - " stammered the medic who had approached Carson with the preliminary results of the poison analysis. "Um - Doctor - should I get it?"

"Oh, yes, please," said Carson. The medic wasted no time scampering off.

"Wait a minute, Keith..." Sheppard said. "Wait! Do you know how to cure him?"

Well! Now that was a thought! Carson suddenly realized that Keith had been examining Ronon in a very familiar way - with the practiced eyes of a medic. Strange; the Wraith didn't seem to have anything in the way of the doctors, which made sense given their tremendous healing ability. But maybe part of Keith's research into humans involved how to cure their ailments.

"Well...not exactly," Keith said. "But I have a fairly good idea. If I could see the arrow, I'd know for certain."

"Um - I have it, Doctor." The medic who'd run off had returned and was holding a plastic box like it contained a miniature nuclear reactor.

"Thank you," said Carson, accepting the box. Keith turned in his direction and the doctor quickly handed him the box. Keith popped open its hinges and removed the blood-caked flint arrowhead inside.

The medic tensed "Um - um - you're not supposed to - "

He fell silent when Keith shot him a piercing glare. Then the Wraith turned towards the arrowhead again, holding it to the light and staring at it for an inordinately long period of time. Occasionally he held it close to his face and seemed to be sniffing it, and once he scored a long line down its body with a claw. Everyone in the infirmary watched him, none daring to speak; they had no idea what he was doing but they felt _he _knew (well, at least Carson felt that way), so no one interrupted.

"Ah," Keith said, his soft voice slicing through the silence. "Well, you're in luck."

Carson said, "Wait - what do you mean by that? Do you know what the poison is?"

Keith nodded. "Yes. I am fairly certain. And as I said, you're in luck - but only if you work quickly. I estimate that you have approximately an hour and a half left before he succumbs."

"Well, what are you _waiting _for?" said Sheppard. "So? What's this poison?"

"The poison is a paste made from grinding the leaves of a plant native to most planets in this galaxy," Keith said. "It is extremely toxic, particularly in large doses. We are lucky that whoever doctored this arrow wasn't smart enough to mix it with other toxins, as is done in many societies. That is, the poison on this arrow is the purest form possible."

"I see! So an antidote would be a simple matter of identifying the compounds in _this _poison and engineering - " Carson began.

"It's simpler than that," Keith interrupted. "There's a certain herb - also native to most planets in this galaxy - that can counteract most of the effects of this poison's pure form. But you must act quickly. He doesn't have much time left."

"Wow, Keith..." said Sheppard, sounding as awed as Carson felt. "You...how do you _know _all this?"

Carson had been thinking the exact same question. The Atlantis expedition had never before encountered a Wraith who had so much botanical knowledge. Most of the Wraith scientists they'd met were programmers and physicists and the like; Carson couldn't imagine any of them reciting encyclopedic knowledge about poisonous plants.

"In the village by the base," Keith said, "there was an old woman who was an expert with plants...their healer, of sorts. She taught me...about all this. But enough about me. You _do _want to save your friend here, don't you?"

Carson and Sheppard exchanged glances before nodding in concert. Sheppard immediately took charge of the situation. "All right, you heard the man. We haven't got much time. Once we're cleared by Elizabeth, I want a team to go offworld and gather as many of these plants as possible. - You said they're on the every planet, yeah? How do they look like?"

"I could describe it, but I think a picture would be more beneficial..." Keith said, flitting Carson a glance. Carson caught in an in an instant and fetched a steno pad and pen from atop a desk. Keith tucked the pad in the crook of his arm and twirled the pen between his thumb and forefinger, examining it.

"There's no ink," he said.

"Oh no, but that pen is full," Carson said. "It's one of the new ones, just opened its box this morning..."

Sheppard cracked a smile, though the smile slipped away when his gaze fell upon the sick Ronon. "The ink's inside the pen, kiddo. It's called a ballpoint pen. Great invention, really."

Keith looked a little skeptical, but he pressed the pen against the pad anyhow and began sketching with long, intent strokes. His eyed widened when he saw the crisp dark lines the pen left behind on the paper, and Carson had to resist the urge to smile. Evidently, though the Wraith had long invented space travel, they had yet to hear of such a thing as a ballpoint pen.

Keith finished sketching quite soon and he handed the pad over to Sheppard. Carson caught a glimpse of a fairly well-rendered plant with clumps of rounded, clover-like leaves. Keith was explaining, "Healthy specimens are a grayish-green shade...they tend to clump under trees...look for beads of transparent sap on the leaves, you could mistake it for dew if you don't smell it, it's somewhat bitter, smells like cyanide. At least to Wraith. That's what we need, the sap, it's where the antidote is concentrated the most strongly..."

"Okay, clear out," Sheppard was shouting at the people who'd gathered around. "Outta the way, gotta find Elizabeth..."

When Sheppard reached the infirmary entrance, Keith fell back. He and Sheppard exchanged words that were too quiet for Carson to hear, but ended with Sheppard patting Keith on the shoulder. The Wraith nodded after the retreating Sheppard before turning around and heading back over to Ronon's bed.

He offered Carson a rueful smile. "I can't go to the gate room, so I assume that I'll be unable to accompany John."

"It's all right," Carson said. "Colonel Sheppard knows what he's doing."

"Of course he does," Keith said with a slight shake of his head. Once again, it struck Carson how affectionately Keith spoke about Sheppard...and again he had to wonder just what the nature of their relationship was.

That was the last thing he should be thinking about at a time like this. He turned back to Ronon's bed, determinedly keeping watch and giving a few more useless orders. All he could do now was wait and hope that Colonel Sheppard's team got back soon - and hope that his herb of Keith's worked. But Keith wouldn't go through all that effort to prolong Ronon's death, would he? He wasn't the type...and he'd sworn not to harm Atlantis. Carson felt ashamed of himself for even allowing the thought to cross his mind. After the boy had done so much to help them...

Keith had plopped into a chair and was gazing straight ahead at nothing, his arms wrapped around his knees. Carson wanted to say something encouraging to him, but he didn't know what, and in any event he had to focus on Ronon. At least no one tried chasing the Wraith out of the infirmary, though that might just be because they were all too busy.

* * *

The medical team had brought Ronon back from the brink of death three times by the time the team returned from the Alpha Site a half hour later. They tromped in one after another - Sheppard, Rodney, Teyla, Major Lorne - their arms full of grayish-green, round-leafed plants. Carson immediately broke away from Ronon's bedside to intercept them. Some of the medics grumbled about the infirmary being too crowded.

"Oh good, you're back, Colonel - " cried Carson, accepting an armful of herb from Sheppard. They had a sharply bitter scent that made his stomach roil.

"How's our big guy?" Sheppard asked.

"Not good." Carson shook his head. "His heart's stopped three times already; it's barely beating now and the rest of him isn't much better. If you hadn't come back sooner..."

Sheppard nodded grimly. Rodney, who'd unceremoniously dumped all his herb into the hands of a startled intern, threw his hands in the air. "Yeah, _assuming _this stuff even works! I mean, medicine's already practically voodoo, do you really trust some witch doctor ramblings about herbs or whatnot - "

"Not _now, _Rodney," Sheppard said, throwing Rodney a sharp glance. The scientist gibbered a little before falling silent.

Adding to the crowd around Ronon's bed, Keith squeezed next to Sheppard's side. "You're back, John! About time...why did you collect so much?"

"Hey, you didn't tell us there was a limit," Sheppard said.

"Well, never mind..." Keith shook his head in a resigned way. He moved towards Carson and snatched a particularly large specimen from the doctor's bundle. He snapped it cleanly in half with a noise that seemed too loud for the plant's skinny stem and held both halves upside down to keep the clear sap from gushing out. "You're going to have to get this in his mouth."

Carson looked at Ronon with a breathing tube shoved down his throat and thought that would be very difficult indeed.

"Is it possible to administer it intravenously?" Carson said.

Keith looked a little nervous. "I...I've never seen it done that way, but...I assume it would be possible."

"Wait, wait a minute, hold on a second here," called Rodney, his eyebrows dancing an indignant tango. "We only needed _one? _Then - what's - this is - I wasted all that time gathering 'em - "

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to make it a competition," Lorne shot back.

The glance Keith threw Rodney was pitying, but with a little amusement mixed in - Carson recognized the expression because it was one that eventually crossed the face of everyone who dealt with Dr. Rodney McKay. He nodded at Keith in a knowing way - saying without words, _better get used to this _- and accepted one of the plant halves from the Wraith. He peered into its hollow stem to see it held a clear liquid slightly thicker of water.

"Will this be enough?" Carson said. It couldn't be more than a tablespoon.

"It's highly concentrated," Keith said. "One half is given shortly after the poisoning and the next is given ten hours later. To flush the remainder of the poison out of the victim's body. But that's if the antidote is given through the mouth. Er...intravenously, I wouldn't know."

Carson sighed under his breath. Wonderful, they had to try out an experimental treatment on a dying comrade. He privately reflected that he had been in this sort of situation too often - though that was what came with being the Atlantis expedition's main doctor.

"We'll try that too, aye?" he said. "Or something like that. Since it'll be going directly into the bloodstream, we'll have to dilute it with purified water. Enough to fill the bag, I'd say... In the meantime, all non-essential personnel please clear out. Yes, that includes you, Colonel Sheppard."

"He'll be fine?" Sheppard murmured, cocking his head at Ronon.

Carson hesitated. He wasn't sure if he could give Sheppard a truthful answer to that. It depended on if the herb worked intravenously - or rather, if it worked at all. He threw a glance at Keith, who nodded stiffly.

"We'll see what we can do," Carson said.

"All right," Sheppard said. "I'll leave it to you, doc."

He offered Carson a smile that didn't extend to his eyes, before turning around and walking off after the rest of his team, most of them still carrying their bundles of herbs. Rodney had stuck a leaf in his mouth and was sucking on it; he didn't seem to notice what he was doing. Carson watched them go for a moment before turning back to his task at hand. Ronon's life signs were so far weak but stable - now was his best chance to act. He began giving orders to the medical team again, with Keith offering occasional interjections on how to best prepare the antidote.

They'd filled the IV bag with a blend of purified water and the tablespoon or so of sap from the plant, and rigged up it up to the pole and slid the tube into Ronon's arm again. Now they could only wait.

* * *

The wait didn't take long.

Only minutes after they started giving him the concoction, Ronon's heart rate picked up and became much more steady. Three hours later, he could breathe by his own power. Six hours later, his eyes were open and he could even sit up. Carson couldn't believe that he'd been so close to death before.

Truly that plant was a miracle. He said as much to Keith, who asked with perfect innocence, what a miracle was. Since Carson didn't feel up to explaining religion to Keith, he just explained that it was something wonderful.

Keith replied that the recovery wouldn't last if they didn't give the second dose; Ronon would just relapse. Practical as ever.

Soon Carson allowed the team to visit Ronon - not that he had much of a choice, they'd have just barreled their way into the infirmary if he refused them. They surrounded his bed in a loose circle, staring down at him with various mixtures of concern and relief. Ronon lounged against the pillows, looking remarkably relaxed for someone who'd been at death's doorstep.

"Hey, big guy," said Sheppard, cracking a grin. "How ya feelin'?"

"Great," Ronon said, jerking his shoulder in his shrug. "Beckett says I need to stay here for another week at least, but really, I could get up and start running missions right now."

"Yeah, join the party," Sheppard said.

"It is good to have you back, Ronon," Teyla said.

"What - what, I can't _believe _it," Rodney sputtered. "Come on, we saw you, you were barely even _breathing _- "

"Better thank Beckett," Ronon said.

"Um, actually," Carson cut in - he was uncomfortable with taking credit for ideas that weren't his. "It wasn't me so much as, um, Keith here."

Ronon's demeanor changed in an instant. He bolted upright and, his expression feral, he whipped around to face the Wraith perched upon a chair. Keith jerked when Ronon's hostile glare landed upon him.

"Hey, easy there, Ronon," Sheppard said warningly.

"You," Ronon spat.

"Yes?" Keith said icily.

Carson gulped - he sensed that a situation he couldn't control was developing. Quickly, he stepped between Keith and Ronon. "Now, now, let's not fight..."

"What'd you do to me?" Ronon said.

"I saved your life," Keith said. "Which is more than I should have done, now that I think about it."

"Hey! Listen up here, that's - " Sheppard began, but Ronon spoke above him.

"What, you expect me to be grateful to you now?" Ronon growled. "I don't know what you're playing at, Wraith, but I don't trust you."

"I've given you reason after reason..." Keith said.

"Yeah? Well, none of that means anything!" Ronon tried surging out of the hospital bed; Carson and another medic immediately dived over to push him back down. It was like fighting a wall.

"That's two of your expedition's lives that I've saved," Keith said. "By now, you should have realized that I mean you no harm."

It struck Carson that Keith's motives for saving Ronon hadn't been the most pure. His stomach squirmed, but what could he do about it? Keith's reasons didn't matter if Ronon was still alive, right?

"And you think I owe you anything? You're a Wraith, that's why I don't trust you, never will." Ronon leaned forward threateningly, grabbing at his hip as if he wanted to draw his gun. Of course there was nothing there but hospital gown, but even without a weapon Ronon was dangerous. "_I see right through you._"

Keith blinked, once, twice. "Very well. Then I see we have nothing more to discuss." He spun around, his coat spinning a circle around him, and strode towards the four lounging marines. "I'd like to return to my quarters, please."

The marines flanked him and escorted him soundlessly out of the infirmary. Carson watched them go for a helpless second before turning back to Ronon, who was trying to rise out of the bed, despite the medic and Sheppard restraining him.

"Take it _easy, _Ronon," Sheppard said. "You still need to recover."

"I feel fine," Ronon growled. "Look, if I don't take care of that Wraith this instant - "

"Keith is a guest, Ronon," Teyla said. "Elizabeth will not take it kindly if you kill him."

"Guest, my ass! I know what he really is..."

"No, you don't! Now get down, dammit, Ronon!"

"That's right," Carson said, striding over. "Listen, Ronon, your treatment's not complete; you'll relapse if we don't give you the second dose. So sit tight until then, at least. Please. Don't strain yourself too much."

Ronon scowled but sank down upon the bed anyhow. "You're making a mistake," he said to Sheppard. "You know that."

"No, I'm not," Sheppard said. 'Look - I, I gotta go. See you all... Get better, okay, Ronon?"

He didn't throw a glance behind him as he sprinted to the infirmary exit. The other members of his team had a shrewd idea where he was going, but none said anything, not even Ronon. With a sigh, the Satedan closed his eyes and slumped upon his pillows. He was falling asleep, which made since given the ordeal he'd been suffering through the past day. Carson made motions to shoo the rest of the team away.

"Sorry, you can come back later, he needs his rest..."

* * *

Sheppard strode straight into Keith's quarters and demanded, "All right, so what the hell did you do that for?"

Keith, who was sitting on the bed with his back turned to Sheppard, did not turn around to face him. "Do what?"

"You know what I'm talking about!" An unfathomable anger was bubbling in Sheppard's chest - anger towards _Keith. _Oh, he'd gotten angry at the young Wraith before, but never like this. His anger those times had been purely animalistic, rage born from pain and fear. This was a cold rage, an intellectual rage. He felt it with his mind, not just his heart, and that made it even worse. Even sharper and more potent.

In a way, it terrified Sheppard. He rarely got this angry - the last time he had had been when he'd confronted Kolya. That other prison, with that other Wraith. He'd never have imagined that he could get this angry at _Keith_...but that was before he'd figured out what Keith was up to.

"Ah." Keith tilted his head in Sheppard's direction. "You mean, saved your friend?"

"Yeah, dammit, what else could I mean?" Sheppard circled around the bed to the other side, so that he was facing Keith. Well, trying to face Keith, since the Wraith had suddenly become very interested in the floor.

"Why are you angry about that? You should be happy - "

"Because," Sheppard snapped, "you didn't do it to help him. You did it so he would owe something to you. So _we _would owe something to you."

Keith looked up at him and his face quirked into a smirk. "My, you're clever, John."

"And you're not even denying it!" Sheppard said, incredulous.

"Why should I? When you've already perceived the truth..."

"So," Sheppard said, and as he spoke another icy burst of rage spiked inside him, "you didn't do any of it out of the goodness of your heart. Giving over the intel, helping Carson with his research...even helping me escape. We were all a means to an ends, huh? A means to get _you _asylum. That's all you ever wanted, isn't it! Asylum. And we gave it to you, hook, line and sinker!"

Keith blinked at him, and it struck Sheppard that the Wraith's expression was - fearful. The thought made Sheppard's head swim. So Keith was afraid of him. Let him be. After everything he'd done, after playing Atlantis like that...

"No. You're wrong, John."

"Will you quit calling me that? You don't mean it!" Sheppard turned around and walked in a circle, trying to walk his frustration away - but if anything, it only grew. "Your so-called 'feelings' for me, was that a ruse too? To get me to pity you?"

"It wasn't a ruse!" Keith shouted, bolting to his feet. "I do care about you, I care about you and your friends - "

"Says the _Wraith," _Sheppard spat. "You're not different at all from the rest of your kind, are you! Just a little more subtle about your machinations, and a little more self-centered with your goals."

Keith flinched as if he'd been struck. "You're wrong. Don't - if you start acting like this, I don't know what I'll do..."

"'Cause I was your closest ally in this city, huh?" Sheppard said. Don't worry, I'll bet you'll find another soon, you opportunistic little snake."

Dimly, he thought this was wrong, all wrong...and maybe his rage wasn't as intellectual as he'd thought. Once again, Keith knew exactly which nerve to clip. The one coiled around Sheppard's heart. _I thought that you would be different. _

Was he? Would he have been so angry if Keith were a human?

"I'm not...it's true, I _did _want to escape. But I wanted to help you too. Whatever you say, however you denigrate...how I feel, I know that what I felt was genuine. _Is _genuine. I'm not manipulating you. Believe me, John."

Keith's eyes glimmered, disturbingly wet - but could Wraith even cry? He was shaking and he'd plopped onto the bed again and those eyes, those eyes that could not lie, they flashed with so much _hurt_... It struck Sheppard that maybe Keith was telling the truth. Could he really have deceived the colonel for so long when those eyes revealed everything?

"Keith," Sheppard said, a little more gently, though his anger had yet to dissipate. "What you did for Ronon...you didn't have the best of intentions there. For everything else, I think you did. But Ronon..."

Keith took a while to nod. "Yes... I...it is selfish, I admit it. But I want him in my debt. Now you people can't say that I can't be trusted. I gave you a solid reason. I saved the life of the one who hated me the most. Dr. Weir cannot deny that."

"And in exchange for doing that, you want...?" Sheppard said.

"Isn't it obvious?" Keith said with a scoffing laugh. "Freer rein. Access to information. Not being insulted under my breath everywhere I go."

"That's a shitty reason to save _anyone's _life," Sheppard said. Though he now understood Keith's reasons, that didn't make him less indignant. He didn't like the thought that Keith had treated Ronon's life as...as a bargaining chip.

"I've never denied that," Keith said. "It's a transaction, John. I gave him his life. I want access to the Stargate, and I want two marines, not four."

Sheppard looked on him incredulously. "Are you _serious? _You really think we'd give you all that?"

"Of course you would," Keith said. "If it weren't for me, he'd be dead, yes? He's a member of your team, important to you and Dr. Weir. I think I deserve a little something for keeping him a member of your team."

"Goddammit, Keith, you don't get it!" Sheppard wrung his hands. "You can't treat this kind of thing as a transaction! Kindness - trust - that comes without being asked for. When you ask for it, when you deliberately do something calculated, then it's not...really trust."

"I'll take 'not really trust' over not being trusted at all," Keith said almost lazily. "I've already made it abundantly clear that Wraith do not see things the same way humans do. You can't expect me to have much of a conscience."

"Hold on, now," Sheppard said, pointing a shaking finger at his face. "Don't you go selling yourself short, kid."

Keith hissed, a sound that made the hairs stand up on the back of Keith's neck. Such a...Wraith-like sound. "If it gets what I want, I'll gladly do it."

"I didn't think you were the type to whore yourself out like that," Sheppard said.

Keith's laugh sounded more like a derisive bark. He stood up and paced a circle around the bed, his hands clasped together. When he passed by Sheppard, Sheppard took a step backwards; both pretended not to have noticed.

"Perhaps I'm not. Or perhaps I'm just bad at this. You see, to me the material benefits are incidental. The _real _reward is his reaction. He can't deny it, can he? That man. He is now in my debt. Though he is savage he has some sense of honor, and that will compel him to repay me. But he'll find that difficult because to him I am a monster who deserves to die. It'll be quite fun to watch, don't you think? The mental struggle as he decides whether to repay me or not. Ha, he's probably never thought so hard about anything before!"

Keith started to laugh. A high-pitched, hysterical giggle that reminded Sheppard too much of Schebner. The Wraith clutched the edge of the bed and doubled over, one hand over his stomach. If those horrid noises - a laugh that Sheppard could only describe as a stereotypical "mean girl" giggle - weren't escaping his mouth, Sheppard wouldn't thought he was throwing up. He stood there helplessly, watching Keith, and he realized that he hadn't known the kid at all. Or rather, known only one side. He'd seen Keith's kindness and gentleness and naivete, but he had yet to see Keith's dark side. His vindictive side.

The side that had compelled him to save a life, for all the wrong reasons.

* * *

Yes, Keith does enjoy his schadenfreude. I say he got it from Later.

Lt. Derringer's introduction doesn't seem to serve much purpose now, but keep a close eye on him. He'll only become more important... Oh, and I'm not sure whether to have made him an officer or enlisted. Anyone who knows anything about the military can help me?

Please do review.


	13. Schebner

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Thirteen: Schebner_

My, I'm writing these quite quickly - at a rate of about one a day. Let's see if I can keep this up.

Funny that most of this story has been set on a Wraith base, but there hasn't much on Wraith society in general. Makes sense, since we're seeing most things from Sheppard's perspective, and Keith is an outcast among his people. There's a deeper look at my conception of Wraith society in this chapter.

* * *

The Hive orbited Later's planet with languid assurance. Though it kept its weapons in prime condition and always a hair's breadth from activation, it had little need to use them. The Hive had fought and won this planet for itself long ago, during the last culling cycle. The Wraith's memories went back far - even enemy Hives remembered how viciously the Queen and her soldiers had fought during the last great battle. As such, they avoided the planet and the Hive was allowed its unchecked confidence.

Deep inside its dimly lit chambers, the Queen sat upon her throne, facing the tall, goateed commander who had been named "Later" by Colonel Sheppard.

Later found his Queen entrancing, as did every male Wraith in the Hive, but Later's attraction was of a deeper, more powerful nature. He had been her second-in-command ever since the war against the Ancients. Her "First and Last," she called him. Certainly, she mated with the other males, but it was reluctantly, for the sole purpose of passing genetic variations onto her progeny; those brief, formal sessions were nothing like the passionate nights she spent with Later. Other Wraith - even the Wraith in their own hive - might view her as odd, for few Queens were so possessive of a single one of their commanders, but Later loved her all the more for it. Love. It was strange and a little dangerous, he knew. Wraith did not love. And certainly Wraith did not love their _Queens. _A Queen was feared and respected; loving implied a sort of equality between the participants that should not exist between a Queen and her commanders.

It didn't matter what others thought. Later already knew that they viewed him as a deviant. He allowed them to think that because they couldn't use it against him - after all, there was none more powerful in his hive than himself and his Queen.

The Queen gazed up at him. Wraith females were smaller than males in general, but his Queen was particularly diminutive even for a female. Her dark hair, purplish under the dim lighting, flowed around her body and made her look younger and more vulnerable. Of course, those who knew her - and served her - knew that she was not as weak as she appeared. Later could see it, glinting in her golden eyes. An edge of steel. The strength that had drawn him to her in the first place.

"How much intel did the traitor manage to obtain?" the Queen hissed, her voice low. There was none of the warmth it held during their trysts, but that didn't bother Later. This was not the time and place for...relationship...matters.

"He only managed to obtain that which he had clearance to access," Later said as smoothly as he could. He must placate her. In her rage, she might order something rash - deaths of valuable personnel, for instance. He must reduce the threat in her eyes, and only after that could those who were actually responsible be punished.

"And how much is that?" the Queen demanded.

"Don't worry - the logistics and defense of the base, as well as our more secret experiments, are beyond his clearance," Later said. "He has very little knowledge of computers, so he would not have been able to hack our systems. What he brought, I believe, is mostly his own research -obviously useless - and the information on the base's day-to-day operations. Nothing...essential. However, he also brought with him the planet's address."

The Queen leaned forward in her seat, her hair shifting around her. Her lips pulled back in a snarl. "When he is caught..."

"Of course," Later said smoothly. "He is yours. Although you'll be kind enough to allow me to have a little..._fun_...with him beforehand?"

"Obviously." The Queen snorted. "Such an abhorrent little insect. I should never have let him live."

"You could not possibly have known," Later said, inclining his head respectfully towards her. "He was always weak and pathetic, yes, but those qualities do not automatically equate traitorhood."

"Weakness should never be allowed to flourish," the Queen said in a tone of flat finality. "How goes the search for the one called Sheppard?"

Of course. One defector of a Wraith was a danger, but not nearly as much as an escaped Lantean. "We believe that he went with the traitor. They have grown quite...close." He didn't so much say as spit the last word.

"So wherever one is, the other will follow?" the Queen said, tilting her head. "Finding them ought to have been a simple matter, yes? All you would have had to do was extract the last dialed addresses from the Stargate..."

Later didn't reply because he sensed she didn't want one. He had the uncomfortable feeling he knew what she was getting at.

"But we cannot, because the dialing device has been destroyed. Destroyed by _his _incompetency."

She raised a languid arm, the sleeve of her loose white dress sliding back, and the door hissed open. A Wraith stood on its other end, tall and gangly and young. One from the same brood from which the traitor came - the dart's pilot.

"Enter," the Queen said.

The Wraith stepped in, his steps slow and hesitant. With a gesture from the Queen he sank to his knees before her. She gazed down at him with haughtiness and no small amount of hatred.

"What was your duty on the morning of the capture?"

"T-to, to disorient the p-prisoner and the traitor, b-before capturing them with a culling beam, my Queen," mumbled the Wraith.

Later gazed down at him in naked hatred. Such weakness was unbecoming from a Wraith, especially a future commander such as this one. Not that this one would have much of a future if Later had his say...

"Did you succeed in that duty?"

"N-no, my Queen."

"Tell me why." The Queen stood with a rustle of cloth and strode a slow circle around him, her shroud-like dress dragging on the floor after her.

The Wraith's hair was covering his face, hiding his expression from scrutiny - but he couldn't hide the shaking that had arrested his body. _Such a pathetic thing...dispatch of him soon, my Queen. _After the interrogation was over with, of course.

"I...I did not operate my dart's culling beam. I continued firing upon them even after I'd corralled them together. That would have been the perfect opportunity to capture them in the beam, but I didn't use it."

"And why _didn't _you?" The Queen leaned close to him, snarling.

"I...wanted to keep firing," the Wraith mumbled.

"And why?"

"Because...because it was fun, my Queen."

"Fun?" The Queen spat and Later almost snorted. What a ridiculous creature...it seemed that brood had proved more defective than others.

"I, I, I," the Wraith stammered, incoherent from fear. "I, I like piloting darts and firing weapons, it's amusing to me, so I wanted to keep doing it, forgive me my Queen - "

"I do not forgive," the Queen said, her pupils dilating. She indicated to the drones standing guard at the throne room walls and they marched forward and seized the Wraith pilot's arms. He moaned in blind terror as he was hauled to his knees. The Queen gazed upon him for a second that stretched into eternity, before drawing her hand back and slamming it against his chest.

Later watched the entire feeding. He watched with no qualms, no fear. What did he have to fear? He'd never meet this end himself. Even after this blunder, he was assured of the Queen's favor - and it was a blunder he was determined not to repeat. The Queen stated that she did not forgive, but that wasn't strictly true; she forgave no one but him. The process would be slow, but it began here. With her feeding on the pilot who had ruined everything.

Eventually the pilot's screams died down and the Queen kicked him to the floor - all that was left of him was a dried-up husk. The drones picked it up and hauled it out of the room to dispose of it along with the humans that had been fed on that day. The Queen watched them disappear, and when the doors hissed shut again she turned to face Later.

"I take that you will from this point forward put more _competent _personnel in charge of the capture operation?"

Later lowered his head deferently to her. "Absolutely, my Queen."

For the first time, the Queen smiled, a little smirk that sliced her pale face in two. She extended a hand and he stepped forward and leaned forward so that she could stroke his face. Her touch was light, barely there - a ghost brushing past his skin. Intimately familiar, uniquely her. When he looked into her eyes there was no disapproval and he knew that he had already traveled far down the road of forgiveness. It was never that easy with her, for she was fickle at best, but for her he'd do anything. Anything. If she wanted him to offer her his life...he would fall to his knees before her in an instant.

And for her, he would track down Colonel Sheppard and the Wraith traitor - and when the time came, destroy them both.

* * *

Sheppard sighed as he walked after Keith through the halls of Atlantis. Since it was nighttime, precious few people were wandering the halls - the only people they'd passed were Zelenka and Rodney, too busy arguing about who was beating whom at their weekly Tetris competitions to notice the passing entourage.

It wasn't that much of an entourage anymore, since there were only two marines with Keith. Dr. Weir had complied with his request, though she insisted that he not be allowed to travel into the gate room unless Sheppard was with him. Which the colonel thought was reasonable.

"Keith, do you even know where you're going?" Sheppard demanded.

"I know how to get to the brig, John," Keith said.

"And _why _do you wanna go there? I thought the whole point was that we got you outta that place for good."

"Don't be stupid, I'm not going back behind the bars. All I want is to finally see this Schebner prisoner."

"Why are you so interested?" Sheppard found himself jogging to keep up with Keith, which was disconcerting to say the least because his legs were much longer than the Wraith's. "Seriously, interested enough to brave Lieutenant Samuels?"

Keith made a scoffing noise. "There are worse things in the world than Lieutenant Samuels, believe it or not."

"Dammit, Keith, tell me why you're so interested in a crazy guy!"

Keith whirled around to face him, hissing. It was such a Wraith-like move that Sheppard had to fight the urge to draw his pistol.

"He is not just a 'crazy guy.' He is one of the most infamous Wraith worshippers in the galaxy. Even among us he has a reputation as a spy and saboteur."

Sheppard highly doubted that. Schebner couldn't even piece together a coherent sentence! "Look, Keith, the only spying he'd do is in the crazy ward, and the only thing he'd sabotage is our ears with his God-awful singing."

"You think he's insane." Keith said it like an accusation.

"Oh, gee, I wonder why," Sheppard said, his eyebrows dancing.

"Don't think I didn't hear him when I was in the brig," Keith said. "I know he didn't come across as possessing most of his faculties...but he's faking it, he must be. I've never seen him act like this before."

"If he's faking it, he's doing a damn good job," Sheppard said. "And hold on, Keith, you _know _him?"

"Sort of," Keith said with a dismissive flutter of his hand. It struck Sheppard right then that a lot of Keith's mannerisms - including that frightening laugh from yesterday - were exactly like those of a rich, fashionable teenage girl. He had to fight the incongruous urge to laugh.

The second it'd taken for that ridiculous thought to cross his mind was enough for Keith and the marines to stride on ahead of him. Sheppard ran to keep up. "Wait the hell _up, _Keith!"

Keith certainly must be eager to see this Schebner. Sheppard wondered how they'd met and what kind of interactions they might have...and again his hand unconsciously moved to his gun. Hey, it couldn't hurt to be careful. A Wraith and Wraith worshipper were about to enter the same room together.

But the Wraith was Keith, and that should have made all the difference. Or it would have, before Sheppard's encounter with Keith yesterday...

* * *

Lt. Samuels, needless to say, was instantly suspicious.

"No, I won't let you into the cell with him," he said, glaring at the Wraith who only came up to his chin. "Are you kidding? You're a Wraith, he's a Wraith worshipper, doesn't take a genius to - "

"Hey, listen," Sheppard said, stepping up behind Keith and placing his hand on Keith's shoulder. "He's with me, okay?"

"Colonel," Samuels said, "back away from the Wraith."

"The _Wraith," _Sheppard said, tightening his grip on Keith, "is with _me. _Got it?"

"_Impure!" _Schebner suddenly shrieked. "Impure - human, impure thing - you dare lay your filthy hands upon one of your overlords - "

"Whoa!" Sheppard leapt back the instant that Samuels and the other guards surged towards Schebner's cell, pointing stun guns and yelling various permutations of 'Shut up.' If he wasn't mistaken, the nutty prisoner had actually reacted to something was happening before his eyes. Sheppard hadn't gone to see Schebner often, but from what he'd figured out and from what the others told him, the prisoner spent most of his time rocking back and forth on his bench, mumbling a stream of non sequiturs. On occasion, he giggled and-slash-or sang.

"Schebner," Keith said, taking a step towards Schebner's cell - though he fell back when one of the guards pointed a stun gun at him. "Schebner, can you hear me?"

Schebner giggled. It was all Sheppard to do to keep from clapping his hands over his ears. "Lord Wraith, I hear you, yes I do! Hee hee hee, Lord Wraith!"

"That's good," Keith said softly. "Do you recognize me?"

"O, Lord Wraith!" Schebner shrieked the words to the ceiling. Perhaps out of force of habit, the guards all yelled for him to shut up. Sheppard had the sneaking suspicion that they'd been getting their kicks out of arguing with him - then again, when you had to stand guard over a crazy man, how else were you going to have fun?

"Lord Wraith, hee hee, you have come to same me, _meeeee, _Schebner, your most loyal servant! Yes, I have been loyal, have I not? O, my lord - "

"Yes, Schebner," Keith said, still in that soft, gentle tone. "You've been very loyal. Come...you may now drop the act. You are safe here - "

"Safe here, safe there, safe _everywhere! _Tee hee!" Schebner rolled around the bench, clutching his sides as if he'd made a gut-bustingly funny joke. Which he hadn't.

Sheppard said as much. "You know, you're gonna have to work a lot harder if you wanna be a stand-up comedian."

"Insolent!" Schebner roared like a Wraith and leapt for the bars of his cell - immediately, the guards cocked their weapons. "Insolent creature! Your insolence shall not last - the Wraith will come, yes they'll come, the Wraith will always come - "

"Please, Schebner," Keith said. "That's enough. You can stop pretending."

Sheppard stepped up to Keith's side, though that infuriated Schebner more - the insane man had on a very Steve-like snarl. "You know, if I didn't know better I'd think that he was _enjoying _this."

"I...I don't understand." Keith shook his head. "Why is he acting this way? What would he hope to gain? I've never seen him like this before."

"He gets an excuse not to tell us anything, I'd wager," Sheppard said.

"But I'm not asking him for information!" Keith said. "At least, not vital intel... I only want to know what he's doing here, why he's acting this way. Schebner. Can you answer those questions at least?"

Schebner responded with a head-splitting giggle. Sheppard shrugged. "I'd say that's a no."

"John, I know you're going to say I'm wasting my time," Keith snapped, shooting Sheppard a familiar reproachful glare, "but I assure you I am _not. _I will stay here all night if that's what it takes to bring him back to normal."

"Keith..." Sheppard stared incredulously at the young Wraith. He was disconcerted by how familiar this sort of behavior had become. When he'd first met Keith, he would never have thought the frail-looking boy could act so assertive, but something had changed in Keith since their escape. Whether it was for the better or not, Sheppard couldn't say. He knew that he hadn't liked it yesterday. That time when Keith had laughed about Ronon's misfortune... Sheppard could never condone that.

"The Wraith will destroy you, human!" roared Schebner, slamming against the bars until the force field activated and he had to stumble back.

"Not this one," Sheppard said wryly.

"Colonel Sheppard is my friend," Keith said. "Please don't harm him." He glanced at the guards.

Samuels laughed. "You take me for an idiot, Wraith? I already said, I'm not letting you two into the same room."

"Well, I _am," _Sheppard said stepping forward. "Well, Lieutenant? What are you waiting for?"

He glared at Samuels, who gazed stonily back at him. Samuels, however, was not nearly as insubordinate as Lieutenant Derringer, so he stepped aside without a protest, though he looked no less angry than before. The force field disappeared and seconds later the cell door lifted. Keith stepped forward and Sheppard was fast behind him, while the guards, plus Keith's marines, trained their weapons on Keith and Schebner.

Schebner hissed when Sheppard approached. "Insolent, insolent, insolent - "

"It's all right, Schebner," Keith said in a soft voice used to lull children to sleep. "He's a friend, he won't harm you. _I _won't harm you. Please, do you remember who I am?"

"O, Lord Wraith - " Schebner sucked in a rattling breath and sank to his knees before Keith. "Lord Wraith, Lord Wraith - "

"No," Keith said, stepping back. "No. Please don't bow to me. I am not here as your superior. I merely want to...speak with you. Please, Schebner."

"It's no use," Sheppard said. "I told you, Keith, he's nuts!"

Keith glared at him. "He is not. I'll break through to him, I know it."

Sheppard privately thought that Keith was a little too optimistic. How the hell could anyone break through to this guy, who'd now buried his head in his arms and was shaking with noises that sounded like a cross between sobs and laughs? Hell, they should have long dumped him out of the brig and somewhere else, but then again Sheppard hadn't been present for Schebner's capture so who knew, maybe the guy had been acting normally back then.

"Please, Schebner," Keith said again, lowering his voice. He sank to a crouch before the man, who whimpered and tried scuttling backwards.

"No, Lord Wraith, Lord Wraith, Wraith must not kneel, Wraith must stand for they are superior - they will reward me - hee hee, hee _hee _- stand, Lord Wraith! Do you hear? Stand!"

"I won't," Keith said, "unless you start acting normally."

"_Humans fall before the Wraith, before the Wraith, before the Wraith," _sang Schebner to the tune of "London Bridge Is Falling Down." _"Humans fall before the Wraith, in this Galaxy!"_

"Great, you wanna try out for American Idol now?" Sheppard said.

In a second Schebner was furious again. He surged towards Sheppard, his hands flailing, roaring, "INSOLENT! Insolent creature, you will pay, you will _pay, _yes you will - "

"Schebner, enough!" cried Keith, stepping between the insane man and the colonel. "If you can't behave yourself the marines will shoot you. Do you want that to happen?"

He spoke with a forceful authority that Sheppard had never seen from him before. Sure, he'd seen Keith bossy, but that was it - a child's bossiness. Demanding, but not compelling. Now Keith stood straight-backed with his hands clasped behind his back, his head lifted and looking down at the flailing Schebner. In a flash of an instant Sheppard realized that Keith looked like a true Wraith commander. Like Steve, like the Wraith who Sheppard had helped escape months ago. Of course the colonel knew, intellectually, that Keith was of that same commanding caste, but he'd never believed it because Keith was so unassuming.

His hand twitched towards his gun, and the marines cocked their weapons as well.

"Lord Wraith," Schebner said in a low moan. "Help me."

Keith crouched again, his coat fanning around him, and the terrible spell that had taken over him was broken. He was no longer a generic Wraith commander, but Keith. Sheppard's Keith. A gentle young man reaching hesitant hands towards Schebner. He touched the man's shaking shoulders lightly and leaned in close and whispered, "I will. I promise. But you must stop acting this way."

"Ohhh, Lord Wraith, the Wraith will come, for Schebner they'll come," Schebner babbled, his eyes huge with fear.

"Schebner, _please! _You have nothing to fear!" Keith cried. He sounded desperate; sympathy twinged inside Sheppard. "I will not harm you, these people will not harm you, you have my word - John, you won't harm him, will you?"

He turned wildly in Sheppard's direction, his eyes ablaze with hope. And pleading. Sheppard took an unconscious step forward, responding to that plea.

"'Course not. But look, Keith, I really don't think he's pretending anymore. You're going to have to admit that he's gone insane."

"He hasn't!" Keith's shout caused the guards to jump and many of their hands flew to the triggers of their weapons. "I know him, he would not...it _is _an act but I don't know why! What reason do you have to maintain this ruse? Answer me!"

"Lord Wraith, forgive me, forgive me, I have incurred your fury," moaned Schebner, practically grinding his forehead to the floor in his haste to apologize. Keith shuffled backwards, his expression horrified.

"No, don't grovel to me. All I want - all I ask - is that you return to the way you used to be."

"Oh Lord Wraith, Lord Wraith, the Wraith will come," was Schebner's _very _helpful reply. Sheppard sighed.

"Keith, I know you didn't want me to tell you this, but we _are _wasting our time here. If he's acting he doesn't want to drop it, so let's just go, okay?"

"If you're in a hurry to do something," Keith said distractedly, his gaze still fixed on Schebner, "then you can leave. What, do you want to participate in Dr. McKay's 'Tetris' tournament?"

One of the guards - probably Lieutenant Derringer - issued a cough of a laugh. He was easy to ignore, though.

"No, I don't," Sheppard said, exasperated, "and I'm not leaving. I'm definitely not leaving you here with, well, _them." _He indicated the marines - not that he didn't trust them, but _they _didn't trust Keith.

"I know there must be a way to snap him out of this," Keith was saying; he'd gotten up and was pacing circles around the cell. "There _must _be. I'm not thinking hard enough..."

"Maybe he's been hypnotized," Sheppard suggested. "Like, you know, in the Manchurian Candidate."

He'd said it just to be facetious, hoping to show Keith just how ridiculous this effort was. Although Keith wouldn't understand the reference to an Earth movie. What he didn't expect was Keith stiffening like a bowstring pulled taut before whirling around to face Sheppard.

"That's it!" he said, with a wild exhilaration that Sheppard had never heard from him before. "That's precisely it! Thank you, John - of _course _- "

"What the hell?" Sheppard said. "Wait, you Wraith know about the Manchurian Candidate?"

"What are you talking about?" Derringer said. "A video game?"

"No, a movie," Sheppard said.

"It's an old movie," Samuels said, "which is probably why you've never heard of it."

He and Derringer had themselves a little glaring match. Sheppard, for one, was more interested in the drama involving Keith and Schebner.

Keith dashed up to the insane man, who'd buried his face in his chest and was rocking back and forth on the floor. He snatched Schebner by the shoulders and demanded, "Schebner, look up at me. Look at me!"

Schebner obeyed. His murky eyes were confused - not merely puzzled, but the wary bewilderment of a cornered animal. "Well, at least you're following orders," Keith said in a conversational tone that reminded Sheppard, for some reason, of Carson's beside manner. "So you must not have taken a very strong dose, hmm, Schebner? Where could you be hiding it?"

Keith might have been speaking Latin for all Sheppard understood. He threw the guards a look over his shoulder and they responded with shrugs of their own.

"Where, where, where," Keith murmured, sweeping his eyes over Schebner's body. "It must not be in your clothes, because they confiscated those...maybe it's inside you? But no, it would have worn off if you'd swallowed it... Lt. Samuels, he was subjected to a full strip and cavity search, correct?"

"Huh?" Lt. Samuels looked a little dazed at being addressed so politely by a Wraith. "Yeah, sure, what's it to you?"

"Thank you. So it must be somewhere they wouldn't think to check..." Keith rubbed his chin, frowning in the distance. "Think...where...can _you _tell me?"

"Lord Wraith, please stand, no kneeling, no kneeling, no kneeling, no no no." Which about translated to "no."

"Keith, can you tell me what you're looking for?" Sheppard said, stepping forward.

Keith either hadn't heard or he was ignoring Sheppard. "Where, where...where could it be...ah! Hope you don't mind, Schebner."

He'd - much to the astonishment of the watching humans - stuck his thumb straight into Schebner's agape mouth and forced it open. Immediately the guards cocked their weapons and Sheppard's hand flew to his pistol. For some bizarre reason he thought this was the prelude to Keith feeding on Schebner, although Wraith didn't suck out humans' lives through their _mouth_s...

Keith was probing deep inside Schebner's mouth now, his face screwed up in concentration. It made him look years younger - and more human. Schebner, for his part, took it quite well, hanging slack in Keith's grip with his mouth a huge surprised O. Sheppard winced in sympathy - Keith had his hand deeper than Schebner's wisdom teeth - and despite himself admired Schebner a little. Sheppard, for his part, didn't handle visits to the dentist this well.

There was a disturbing kind of clicking and twisting sound, and then Keith withdrew his hand. He wiped it off on the oversized cuff of his coat sleeve before holding something to the dim cell lights - what appeared, by all means and intents, to be one of those silver cake decorations which Sheppard hated eating but Rodney loved, so Rodney's last birthday cake had been smothered with them. Sheppard had spent so much time picking off the offending little balls that his slice of ice cream cake had melted.

"Looks like somebody's been at Rodney's birthday cake recently," Sheppard quipped.

"What _is _that thing?" demanded Samuels, stepping forward. "Is it dangerous?"

"To no one but him," Keith said, glancing at Samuels over his shoulder. "This capsule is filled with a drug, you see. It's desgined with a timed-release mechanism - every six hours or so, it will emit a small burst of its contents, which will make its way through Schebner's respiratory system into his bloodstream."

Sheppard danced his eyebrows. "And this drug, what's it do?"

"It incapacitates his mental faculties," Keith said. "Too much will render him permanantly insane - "

"Guess he's already had too much," Sheppard couldn't resist interjecting.

"No, he _hasn't," _Keith said. "This is the smallest possible size. No doubt it'll muddle up his thoughts and inhibitions, but it hasn't destroyed _him _yet. He's still perfectly capable of responding to me, yes? So there is Schebner beneath the drug."

"And he had it in his _teeth?" _said Samuels.

"My guess is that he put it in shortly after he was captured," Keith said. "Although I don't know the circumstances of his capture so I can't be sure."

"Why would he do something like that?" Sheppard said. "What...to keep from giving us any information?"

Keith's expression said, 'Bingo.'

"Well." Sheppard whistled. "That's diabolically clever, I'd say. The Wraith developed this drug?"

Keith nodded. "More specifically, _I _did. Well...me and a team. Later had us work on it. He doesn't trust Wraith worshippers, see; he only works with them reluctantly. In particular, he was always afraid of what would happen if they were captured. Afraid they'd give away too much...so he had us develop a drug, and a delivery system, that would incapacitate their mental function. They were to take the drug after their capture."

"Why go through all that effort?" Sheppard said. "I mean, wouldn't it be better for Later if they died? And a stronger guarantee that they wouldn't spill anything, too."

"If Later has one virtue it is that he does not approve of needless slaughter of humans," Keith said. "Though that is less out of nobility and more out of practicality. The more humans there are alive in this galaxy, the more food there is."

"_Food." _Samuels snorted. Derringer glared at Keith as if Keith had personally insulted him.

"Okay," Sheppard said with a shrug, deciding not to question any weirdness from Later. Later had already proven himself a particularly sadistic Wraith - who was to say that he hadn't had the drug developed because he got shits and giggles from the idea of Wraith worshippers reduced to imbeciles? "But if you were the one who worked on it, how come you didn't recognize it immediately?"

Keith sighed. "I was only a minor part of the team, I didn't do that much... And as far as I know the drug was never mass-produced. Our Queen...did not approve, she thought that Later ought to spend his time conducting more worthwhile ventures. So the entire project was shut down before it could be completed. I don't know where Schebner got his."

"Now that he doesn't have it anymore," Sheppard said, "will he return to normal?"

"In a few hours," Keith said. "It'll wear off. That's why he needs the timed-release capsule, to keep on strengthening the drug. Once he doesn't have it, believe me, he will be lucid."

"Ready to be questioned, you think?" Sheppard said.

Keith shrugged and sighed. "Perhaps. Knowing him, he will not allow himself to be. But I...I could get what I want. I think."

"And what do you want?"

"To know what he's doing here. And why."

"He's here 'cause he got captured, that's why," Sheppard said.

"I don't think so," Keith said. "He's too good to allow himself to be captured...unless he did in intentionally."

"Hey, I think you're overestimating the guy," Sheppard said. "You might have stories about him being really good at what he does, but come on, _look _at him!"

"That's the drug," Keith said. "Not him. He allowed himself to be captured, I know it, and I will find out why."

"You might have a hard time with that, you know," Sheppard said warningly.

"I know. But I want to try."

Sheppard frowned and took a step closer to Keith. "Keith, what _is _he to you? You're so desperate to talk to him - is he a friend?"

Keith shook his head, staring to the side. Embarrassed. "No, of course not. We met only once."

"But...?" Sheppard raised an eyebrow.

"But what? That's all there is to it," Keith said.

"There's something you're not telling me," Sheppard said, putting his hands on his hips. "Come on, you think I don't know you well enough to know when you're hiding something?"

"It seems I can't hide anything from you," Keith said, rather waspishly.

"No, of course you can't," Sheppard said. He wondered why he was having this argument - it struck him as perfectly natural. How come Keith hadn't realized it himself? His eyes. Those eyes could not deceive, because they displayed everything. Like windows. Frosted-glass windows, but as clear as crystal.

Before he could explain it, though, Schebner spoke. He unleashed a loud, high-pitched cackle and started rolling around on the floor. Sheppard stepped backwards, alarmed, pulling Keith with him. In an instant the guards had their stunners trained on the not-exactly-insane man.

"Guess we'd better get out of here," Sheppard said. "Come back in about six hours? Damn, that'll be what, one in the morning?"

"It can wait until morning," Keith said. "I've gotten what I wanted to today. This, what should I do with it..." He gazed at the cake-decoration capsule that he was still delicately holding.

"Take it to Carson," Sheppard said. "Bet he'd be interested in analyzing it. You wanna hop to the infirmary next?"

"You may hop," Keith said, his eyes flashing, "but I won't do anything so ridiculous."

Sheppard couldn't help it - he burst out laughing. Clutching his midsection, he bent over and thumped Keith very hard on the back several times, hard enough to double the Wraith over. Keith rounded on Sheppard, looking indignant, but Sheppard waved in a "live and let live" manner and continued his deep belly laugh. He deserved it; he hadn't felt so amused since, well, _forever. _

"John, what the hell is so funny?" Keith demanded.

"You all right, Colonel?" said Samuels.

Schebner responded by raising the volume of his cackles. "Shut up!" cried the guards, and two fired at once and knocked him out. Sheppard took that as a cue to grab Keith by the wrist and lead him out of the cell, still chuckling weakly.

* * *

Ghosts, bits of black fog, like pieces of abandoned lace, fluttered in and out of Schebner's vision. Or perhaps he was seeing nothing. In the darkness, phantasms lived. Burrowed into his head. Showed him things that didn't existed. The darkness. The darkness could be anything, anything if you allowed your imagination to roam too far.

No, best keep it locked inside its stable, best keep his mind blank of all thoughts. Nothing but the serene concentration of drawing breath after breath, his chest rising and falling, rising and falling. Like waves. Soft surf on a seashore. The bench was hard beneath his head, the ceiling far away. The air biting of carbon. This cell was familiar yet strange, like an old friend he'd met after a long alcohol-induced absence.

His head felt clear and cold. Like he'd been dunked into freezing water. A thick layer of flannel yanked from over his eyes. Did he want that or not. He didn't know. Lucid, lucidity was returning. Slowly but surely.

He remembered the events of earlier that night, vaguely. The young Wraith who had taken his capsule from him. Lord Wraith. No, not a lord. A boy. Moon-eyes.

Moon-eyes. In Atlantis. With him. Escaped from the Wraith. Time was running out.

Best carry out his plan soon.

* * *

Obviously, Later's Queen is called Ophelia. It's interesting writing from Later's perspective, because when I first wrote this story I had him as a generic bad guy. But rewriting this, I kind of fell in love with his character. He's got a marvelous sense of humor, I must say. Made all the more marvelous in that he only seems to find schadenfreude funny.

The pilot will come back in a big way eventually. Like Lt. Derringer, be sure to pay a little attention to him because though he appears quite minor (and even random) at this point, you'll only be seeing more of him. Posthumously, though.

Please do review!


	14. Interview

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Fourteen: Interview_

Fourth of July update. Woolsey makes his formal appearance in this story. I'm not quite satisfied because I don't think I've quite got a handle on his character, but oh well, what can you do.

I've been suffering a massive case of writer's block recently. Let's hope this helps me get out of it.

* * *

"And _why _is Woolsey coming again?" Sheppard said, raising both eyebrows. "I mean, I wasn't aware there was a crisis..."

Weir sighed and shook her head. "To the IOA, there is. We have a Wraith in Atlantis."

"Yeah, and haven't you explained that Keith is a guest?" Sheppard said in exasperation. "A guest who saved the life of this city's military commander?"

"'Course we have, but come on, like that matters to them," Rodney said. "If they want a reason to complain they'll make one up, you know them."

"At least it's only Mr. Woolsey," said Weir. "He's more sympathetic to us than the others."

"Yeah, by an iota, maybe," grumbled Rodney.

"Nonetheless," Teyla said, "it _is _happening, so there is no point in fighting against it. The best thing we can do is make a good impression for Mr. Woolsey."

Sheppard, Weir, Rodney, and Teyla were gathered in the meeting room, discussing the latest development that had come as a message from General Landry at the SGC - the IOA was sending Richard Woolsey to Atlantis to survey the situation there. Which most likely meant they were going to demand why Weir hadn't killed Keith yet.

"It's not just Keith," Weir said, her eyebrows drawing together. "They'll want to interrogate Schebner."

"And why? The guy doesn't have anything to say!" Sheppard said.

"Didn't you say he stopped taking his crazy pills?" Rodney said.

"They're not crazy pills, and second of all, that doesn't mean he's any more cooperative," Sheppard explained. "He's just as uncooperative as before, just in different ways. Now he's pretending to sleep all day. No matter how loud Samuels and the others yell at him."

"But I fail to see what is so important about Schebner that the IOA would send one of their own to interrogate him," Teyla said, addressing Weir. "One Wraith worshipper should not be a threat to them..."

"That's true," Weir said, "but General Landry told me that the IOA are antsy because we're holding both a Wraith and Wraith worshipper at the same time."

"Oh, come _on," _Sheppard said. "Schebner won't even talk to Keith!"

"Yes, but the IOA doesn't know that," Weir said. "Nor do they fully understand your...history...with Keith. From what General Landry told me, they believe that your relationship with Keith was solely one of convenience."

"_Convenience? _How's that?" Sheppard slammed his palm upon the table, which made Rodney jump. "How many times have I explained this, dammit! Keith had a choice. He wasn't another prisoner, not like that Wraith in Kolya's hole. He _chose _to leave behind his life, risked his ass to do it and - "

"John," Weir said, her tone severe. "We _know _this already. All of us. But the IOA doesn't."

"And you know what, something tells me they won't care," Rodney said.

"What do they want from Keith, anyway?" Sheppard demanded. "He's already cooperating with Beckett's research, and he's already given us intel."

"Perhaps they believe that Keith cannot be trusted," Teyla said. "That he is not giving us...complete or accurate information."

Sheppard laughed, but he felt more like crying - or choking. "Come _on, _he can't fake the research results - and if he doesn't have complete intel, that's 'cause his clearance was low."

"John, listen, John," Weir said, leaning towards him. "You're wasting your time explaining to _us. _We all know this. Explain to Woolsey when he comes, but for now, I'd rather we prepare for his arrival instead of repeating things we already know."

Sheppard wanted to argue, but he couldn't because he knew that Weir had a point. Sighing, he slumped into his seat. Dammit, how much he and Keith had fought to convince Atlantis that the Wraith was on their side...only for something like _this _to happen. Somehow, he thought that Woolsey would be much harder to sway than, say, Rodney.

"The IOA remembers what happened the last time we formed an alliance with the Wraith," Weir said, wincing - she remembered too, and so did everyone at the table. "Naturally, they're paranoid about any Wraith who appears too helpful."

"It's not like it's an alliance," Sheppard said. "Keith's a defector who we've offered political asylum. That should fly with them, shouldn't it?"

"It would," Weir said, "if Keith weren't a Wraith. Like it or not, John - whether _he _likes it or not - he's a member of a species that needs to kill humans to survive. It's understandable why they're so skittish. I don't like it, but...we can't do anything about it."

Sheppard sighed. "When's Woolsey coming?"

"In two hours," Weir said. "He'll want to interview Schebner first, then Keith."

"If Schebner talks," Teyla said.

"I wouldn't count on that," Sheppard said. "Nope, he's just gonna continue the Sleeping Beauty act. Without the 'beauty' part."

Weir cracked a slight smile, but her expression soon became serious again. "I guess that's it. The most we can do now is wait for Woolsey's arrival. Once he comes, you can explain everything you've explained to us, John. But please, _try _not to come across as too hostile."

Sheppard sighed, thinking about the slippery half-bald man who represented the whiniest group of humans on Earth, and said, "No promises."

Weir sighed as well, though he felt it was for different reasons.

* * *

"Offworld activation," called Chuck. "We're receiving Mr. Woolsey's IDC."

"Lower the shield," Weir said.

The shield flickered out of existence and seconds later Richard Woolsey's familiar figure stepped briskly from the event horizon. He looked exactly as Weir remembered - balding, dressed in a neat suit, a briefcase dangling from one hand. Weir stepped forward to greet him.

"Welcome to Atlantis, Mr. Woolsey," she said.

"It's a pleasure to be here, Dr. Weir," Woolsey said as they shook hands. "Now, I'm rather pressed for time, so if you don't mind, I'd prefer if we took care of business as soon as possible."

"Of course," said Weir. She'd been expecting this - after all, this wasn't a pleasure trip. Not that the IOA would ever bother visiting Atlantis for pleasure, although she privately thought that they derived plenty of pleasure from complaining.

As she fell into step beside Woolsey, guiding him towards the brig, she said, "I take you'd like to speak to the Wraith worshipper first?"

Woolsey stopped mid-step and pivoted around to face her. He looked a little nervous. "Well...actually, no."

Weir blinked. Had she just misheard? She'd assumed that Woolsey would prefer to save the more unpleasant (in his eyes) task for later. He certainly didn't seem the type who would be in a hurry to meet a Wraith.

"I know it's sudden, and it's not exactly the order the IOA had in mind," Woolsey said. "But I'd prefer to get this meeting over with sooner rather than later."

"Well, all right," Weir said, cocking an eyebrow. Through her jack, she said, "John, come in."

"_What is it, Elizabeth?"_

"You're with Keith, aren't you?" she said.

"_Sure I am. What about it?"_

"There's been a change in plans. Woolsey wants to talk to Keith first."

"_What? Well, all right...where do you want me to take him?"_

Weir nodded at Woolsey. "Where would you like this meeting to be held?"

"You know," Woolsey said, "I believe it'd be much more secure if this Wraith was being held in the brig..."

"That's out of the question," Elizabeth said. "Keith is here as our guest. We're not going to force him into the brig so _you _can feel more secure during the interview."

"Yes, well," Woolsey began.

"I know you think that I'm making a mistake, but I assure you that I am not," Weir said. "I have every reason to trust Keith. He's been nothing short of cooperative - "

"A little _too _cooperative, don't you think?" Woolsey's gaze became sharp, suspicious. "Don't you remember what happened the last time the Wraith were this helpful?"

"That was different," Weir said. "That was an entire Hive deceiving us. Keith is one Wraith who deliberately betrayed his own people."

"Yes, I know you describe him as a defector, but all the same," Woolsey insisted, "you can't forget that he's a Wraith. And the Wraith have proven quite duplicitous in the past."

"Very well," Weir said. "If you're really so worried, I'll have a contigent of four marines - and Colonel Sheppard - with him in the room, ready to fire if anything goes wrong. The meeting will be held in my office. Is that acceptable?"

Woolsey's throat convulsed as if he was about to protest, but when he spoke it was with a nod. "Yes, it is. But I warn you, if I find any sign that this Wraith is deceiving us, I will not need your permission to order him terminated."

Weir did not like the idea of giving him such authority. Where had this authority come from - the IOA? The thought of them interfering with Atlantis' operations burned in her throat, but she shoved her anger down. Keith would not give Woolsey any reason to distrust him.

"John," she said, calling Sheppard through the jack again.

"_Hey there, Elizabeth. Took your sweet time answering..."_

"Yes, well, Mr. Woolsey and I had to deliberate for a while, but we've decided," Weir said. "Bring Keith to the meeting room - and expand his guard detail to four."

"_Someone's sure paranoid, huh?" _Sheppard said without humor. "_All right, Sheppard out."_

Weir gestured for Woolsey to follow and led to the way to her office.

* * *

Sheppard had already explained the situation to Keith, so Keith wasn't surprised to see the balding human sitting in one of two chairs in Dr. Weir's office. This must be Richard Woolsey, agent of the International Oversight Advisory. Keith was not exactly sure what this "IOA" was, but the way Sheppard spoke about it implied it was up to no good, and it answered to the authorities on Earth. At the end of that little briefing, Sheppard had admonished Keith to stay on his "best behavior."

Keith hadn't planned to do otherwise. If this Richard Woolsey represented that sort of authority, then it wouldn't hurt to treat him as politely as possible.

The instant he entered his room, tailed by the four marines and Colonel Sheppard, Woolsey sniffened and he clasped his hands tight in his lap. Keith nodded respectuflly to him and took the seat opposite him; Woolsey made a motion as if he wanted to scoot his chair backwards, but didn't follow through.

Since the human looked momentarily stricken dumb, Keith spoke first. "Good morning, Mr. Woolsey. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Woolsey swallowed hard - Keith could see every moment of his throat - and squeezed his hands together so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Yes," he said. "Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you too..."

There was an awkward silence for several seconds that dragged into an eternity. Keith became uncomfortable - he felt he should speak, but at the same time, if this was an interview, then Woolsey ought to take the initiative.

"Well," Woolsey said finally, clearing his throat. "So you're the Wraith who's been rendering so much help to Atlantis."

Was he suspicious? Keith couldn't tell. "Yes, I am. You may address me as 'Keith.'"

"Ah...Colonel Sheppard named you that, right? When he was captured by the Wraith," Woolsey said.

"That's right," Keith said. "I helped him escape."

"Of course, I read the reports..." Woolsey wiped his forehead with the back of his head; Keith detected the acrid tang of sweat. Sweat, and fear. It annoyed the Wraith more than he could say. Once again, here was a human who couldn't view him as more than a monster...

"Which brings us to my first question," Woolsey said, straightening. "Why did you help Colonel Sheppard escape?"

Sheppard took a step forward, looking like he wanted to speak, but Weir shook her head warningly at him. He fell back, though he looked angry. Keith was grateful for Weir's intervention - he had the feeling that if Sheppard had spoken, that would do little to improve his image in Woolsey's eyes. No, best answer himself. Convince the IOA agent himself.

"I helped him because I knew that if he did not escape, he would soon die," Keith said. "Over the course of his imprisonment, I had come to...befriend him."

"Befriend him. Really," Woolsey said. "In two days?"

"It was more like a week for us," Keith said. "That world orbits on its axis about three times as fast as this one."

"So you befriended him. What do you mean by that?" Woolsey asked.

Keith blinked. "I - I'm sorry? I don't quite understand..."

"What do you mean by 'befriending' him, specifically? What did you do that entailed...'befriending?'" Woolsey said delicately.

Keith had the feeling that was too personal a question for such an interview, but he kept his objections to himself. "It started because we were mutually interested in one another. I thought that he was different for a human - he was so adamant that he could escape - and he, he thought I was different for a Wraith..."

"You know, 'cause most of them would just snarl 'I am your death' instead of ask how do you do," Sheppard piped up.

Keith went on as if Sheppard hadn't spoken. "I was interested in him, and I thought it would be a shame if he died, so I...helped him. Brought him food - the food provided to him was drugged - and nursed him back to health when he was injured. When my superior fed on him."

"And did _you _ever feed on him?" There was a challenge in Woolsey's voice.

Keith jerked, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. "No. No, absolutely not, I would never - "

"He promised," Sheppard said. "And I happen to trust his promises."

"John, that's enough," Weir murmured.

"Hmm." Woolsey looked from Sheppard to Keith, frowning. "Well, then. Is that the only reason you helped him escape? Because you became...friends?"

"What more reason do I need," Keith said, struggling to suppress his anger. "I saw someone in need of help and I helped him."

"A very noble instinct," Woolsey said. "Unusual from a Wraith."

Keith caught on in a flash. "I do not have an ulterior motive. I did what I did because - "

"Because what?" Woolsey leaned forward; anger seemed to have dissipated some of his fear. "Am I supposed to believe that you brought Colonel Sheppard back to Atlantis out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Yes, dammit!" Sheppard yelled, surging him forward - Weir and a marine pushed him back.

"Not now, John," Weir said, shaking her head.

Keith sat up stiffly, furious about having to address this argument again. "If you're implying that I helped Colonel Sheppard escape so I could spy on Atlantis - "

"Why wouldn't that be your true purpose?" Woolsey said. "Your kind has proven before that you're not above this sort of ruse."

Normally Keith considered himself a peaceful person, but now he was finding it difficult to keep himself from getting up and punching Woolsey in the nose. He swallowed back the urge and said as calmly as he could, "My superiors would never trust me with that sort of mission. I am an outcast among Wraith. I - I don't like what I am, I don't like having to feed on humans - "

"I'm sure that's all part of your cover story," Woolsey said.

Keith hissed in frustration, sinking his claws into the chair arms to keep from launching himself at Woolsey. No, he couldn't attack... Control, control. Control himself.

_"Such is the way of the warrior," _Luka's voice whispered across space and time. _"Control yourself, show no weakness to the enemy. Focus only on breathing. Let _you _become the universe."_

Oh, Luka, all those days spent talking to him across bars - teaching and learning -

It was useless. He'd never learned anything from Luka, because his base nature was that of a coward, and Luka's that of a warrior. That divide was even deeper than the one between human and Wraith.

Nonetheless, he did as Luka had instructed. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly. Holding each breath for his long as possible, feeling his ribcage expand before contracting. Let his universe slip away until it was just him in the chair. Him, alone. Or not so alone, because Colonel Sheppard was standing behind him, radiating silent support...support that washed over him like a balm. That was right, calm down, breathe, Colonel Sheppard would stand by his side, help him get through this.

When he looked back at Woolsey the rush of homicidal rage had dissipated, though he by no means was happy with the IOA agent. "I am sincere. Whether you believe me or not, Mr. Woolsey."

"If that's the case," Woolsey said, sounding deeply suspicious, "then why haven't you taken the retrovirus developed by Dr. Beckett? Surely you would have considered that if you don't like what you are."

It took all of Keith's effort to keep from hissing. No, he had to behave at his most civilized... "The retovirus would wipe my memory. I don't wish to forget the things that happened in my past, whether I like them or not. Would you?"

It was out of spite that he shot the question back at Woolsey, whose face contorted as if he wanted to snap something back. Either Woolsey decided against it or he had nothing to say, because he just nodded briskly and plunged forward with the questioning.

"Tell me the nature of the intel that you brought to Atlantis."

Finally a question he could answer without feeling like he wanted to pummel somebody. "I did not have very high clearance there and I don't know much about computers, but I brought everything I could. The base's day-to-day logistics, the planet's address, my own research - "

"Research. Ah," Woolsey said. "What kind of research would that be?"

Keith wondered how this was relevant, but it couldn't hurt to indulge Woolsey. "I researched humans. The superiors wanted be to do it because they wanted their prey to be more 'palatable' - their words, not mine. But I have always been interested in humans, so...I used the opportunity to find out more about humans, their society, their physiology."

"I see," Woolsey said, though his eyebrows drew closer together and he looked disturbed. "Why did you bring that research with you?"

"I..." Keith swallowed. "I thought the people at Atlantis would be interested in finding out just how much the Wraith know about humans...we were working on ways to better incapacitate humans, you see, so I thought Atlantis might want to know preemptively how to counteract such measures. And to be honest, my own research was the only information I had unfettered access to. I'll admit I wasn't thinking about what information I downloaded, because I was pressed for time at that junction."

"Hmm." Woolsey didn't speak for some time. "Fair enough. And I hear you've been cooperating with Dr. Beckett's medical research?"

"Yes," Keith said. "He says that thanks to me, the expedition's knowledge of Wraith physiology has been advanced by decades." It was hard to keep down the warm bubble of pride that rose inside him when he spoke. He thought of Dr. Beckett's kind smile and the way he addressed Keith as "lad." At least there was one other human in Atlantis who trusted him unequivocally.

"Interesting," Woolsey said, in a tone that implied the opposite. "And I hear that only two days ago you saved Ronon Dex's life?"

"That's right," Keith said.

"You're being _very _helpful, aren't you?" Woolsey said. The aggression was back in his tone and posture. "A little...too much, wouldn't you say?"

Keith's insides froze. This was exactly what Sheppard had thrown at him last night. The accusation that still lanced at him when he thought too hard about it - so he tried not to think about it at all. _Opportunistic little snake... It was all a ruse... _But it hadn't been, truly it hadn't been. His own safety was incidental; everything he'd done had been for Sheppard's sake.

Had it? After all, the way he viewed things, it wasn't him who had helped Sheppard escape - it was Sheppard who had helped _him _escape. If that was true, then he really had just used Sheppard.

Keith swallowed - revulsion at his own actions. No, not actions. By any standards, his actions had been commendable. But his intentions...

_I am truly the lowest of the low. Even the reasons I wanted John to live...it wasn't for him, but for _me. _I wanted to see his eyes. His smile. I didn't want that extinguished, I - I _needed _it. I think he would have been happy with death if it meant he didn't give up his people. But I forced him to live._

And to think Sheppard had misread Keith's selfishness as bravery.

He couldn't speak anymore. He wanted this interview to be over with, he just wanted to go somewhere quiet, somewhere he didn't have to think - away from Sheppard. Stupid Sheppard. The one who'd reached inside him and twisted his heart around the way no one had since Luka. Even more than Luka had.

"Well? Aren't you going to answer?" Woolsey said impatiently.

"No, Mr. Woolsey, you've inquired enough," Keith replied in the same tone. "I've told you everything there is to tell you. If you don't believe that my reasons are sincere then that's your problem. I shouldn't have to explain myself - "

"Keith," Sheppard said, his tone gentle - but edged with a warning. "Listen, I know how you feel but Woolsey doesn't. And as long as he has questions he wants to ask then you're gonna have to sit tight and answer them."

Keith rounded on Sheppard, disbelieving. What the hell was he saying, wasn't Sheppard supposed to be on his side here? But when he met Sheppard's eyes the colonel just shook his head and made a vague gesture with his hands. Saying without words that he knew what he was doing, even if he didn't like it.

In an instant Keith felt ashamed. How could he ever have thought that Sheppard wasn't helping him. That was all that the colonel had done since they'd arrived in Atlantis.

Woolsey was looking at him expectantly, so he straightened and met the man's eyes. To his satisfaction, Woolsey flinched. When he spoke, though, he was calm. "Answer the question, Keith."

At least he was using Keith's name. Keith looked at him and said, his voice steely, "I don't see me as being too helpful. I see myself as repaying a debt I owe to Atlantis."

The truth. The truth couldn't hurt, even if it did cast him in a somewhat selfish light.

"A debt _you _owe Atlantis?" Woolsey cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes. I had no life back at that base, you see. I was viewed as weak and pathetic, whether I even lived was uncertain... Colonel Sheppard showed me kindness, and he offered me a way out. So because of that, I must repay it some way."

"What? _What?" _Sheppard sounded incredulous. It struck Keith that he'd never told the colonel the truth before - he'd told it to Dr. Beckett, but nobody else. Because he thought that they wouldn't be able to understand...yet here he was telling this agent of the IOA the complicated truth. But what else did he have to give?

"Hold on a minute," Woolsey said. "Didn't you say that you helped Sheppard out of pure altruism? And now you're saying it's because you're repaying a favor?"

Keith inhaled deeply, remembered Luka's and Sheppard's words, and sat up straight-backed and confident. "Yes, Mr. Woolsey. I did. What's so wrong about that? I can have more than one reason for doing things."

Woolsey shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like, "preposterous" under his breath. It took all of Keith's effort to keep from hissing at him. The whole point of this interview was to persuade the IOA man that he was not an average Wraith.

"Keith, that's - I mean, come on, you don't owe me anything! It's me who owes _you, _you saved my ass back there," Sheppard said.

Keith flicked his eyes over to Sheppard and smiled. "I'm aware of that too, John. Perhaps we owe each other."

"And it all cancels out," Sheppard said sardonically. "Listen, you should stop thinking about things like that. Who owes whom - it's all just too complicated, you know? We helped each other, that's it, let it go."

This wasn't very logical, Keith thought, but it made sense for Sheppard. Strange. Sheppard logic. He resisted the urge to smile and turned around to face Woolsey again.

"Mr. Woolsey?" he said. "Do you have any further questions?"

Woolsey jerked as if he'd been awoken from a nap. "No, no. I don't think so. I believe I've found out everything I need to know."

He stood up in a single brisk movement and turned towards Weir, who nodded. Keith remained seated, sensing that it'd be wise to leave after Woolsey did. He wondered what impression he'd given Woolsey - the interview had seemed distressingly short. Too short for Woolsey to find out everything he wanted.

It couldn't hurt to ask. "Mr. Woolsey?" he said. "If I may ask, what will the IOA do with me?"

Woolsey stopped at the door and looked at Keith, long and hard. There was still a little fear in his gaze, but it was tempered by something else. Not admiration, nor liking. Perhaps...wary respect? Seeing that lifted Keith's spirits more than anything that happened today.

"Well, we'll have to take some time deliberating before we can reach a final decision," Woolsey said, "but as of now, I can safely say that if you continue to be as cooperative and helpful as you are, then the IOA will - for now, I stress - not have a problem with your continued presence in Atlantis. That's all."

With that, he turned around - trying to act brusque - and walked out of the room, followed shortly by Weir who began engaging him in an animated conversation. Keith, his heart pounding, turned to face Sheppard.

Sheppard cracked him a grin and patted his shoulder. "Best you could hope for, given the circumstances. You convinced him, kiddo."

Keith wasn't so sure of that, but Sheppard looked so happy that Keith decided to say nothing. It was better if Sheppard smiled, better for the both of them.

* * *

The pirsoner Schebner was lying upon the bench like a corpse, his eyes peacefully shut and his hands folded across his chest. Richard Woolsey regarded him skeptically before turning to Weir.

"He's asleep," he said.

"No, he isn't," Weir said. "He's been faking sleep ever since his drug capsule was removed."

"Ah, yes, this drug that turned him temporarily insane," Woolsey said. "I read about it in the report."

"No doubt you did," Weir said. She nodded at the guards. "Open it."

The guards obliged; Weir motioned "after you" and Woolsey stepped inside. Perspiration was beaded on his bald brow, but he didn't look nearly as nervous as he had during his interview with Keith. It made sense - a sleeping human was always less of a threat than a fully-conscious Wraith.

"Well...good morning, Schebner," Woolsey said, straightening his coat lapels. "I'm Richard Woolsey from the International Oversight Advisory, and if you don't mind I'd like to ask you a few questions."

Schebner's response was a faint snore. If Weir hadn't known better she'd have thought it was genuine.

"Schebner," she said forcefully, stepping forward. "This man represents one of the most powerful authorities on the planet Earth. I'd advise that it's in your best interests to answer him."

The Wraith worshipper cracked open one eye. His eyes were light blue, and startlingly clear now that the murkiness the drug had caused was gone. Like looking into a mountain lake. When he spoke, it was one nonsensical word: "Moon-eyes."

"You can't pretend to be insane anymore," Weir said, "now that you no longer have your drugs."

"Ah." His voice was faint, a little hoarse. Much more ordinary-sounding than his high-pitched giggles and screeches before. "Of course. He removed it. The Wraith I know as Moon-eyes."

He could mean no one but Keith. Weir exchanged glances with Woolsey, and Woolsey cleared his throat and said, "If I may, I'd like to start from there. Your relationship to the Wraith who we know as 'Keith.'"

Schebner snorted and lolled his head to the side. "A ridiculous name. Not fitting for him at all."

"Answer the question, Schebner," Woolsey said with an edge.

"Of course, Mr...Woolsey, was it? You want to know because you think it is suspicious. You trust neither of us."

"The question, if you please," Woolsey said.

"We met once," Schebner said. "Several years ago. He was young. His hair was still dark, I remember. Those eyes, I remember. How could I forget? I called him 'Moon-eyes' because that was essentially what his telepathic signature - what the Wraith use in lieu of names - translated into. He was very kind, very polite. Not very much like a Wraith. I sensed that he had been waiting to talk to me for a very long time. Hmm, we didn't talk for long. Pity. I would have liked to have known him better. He seems like a good boy."

"And what did you discuss during this first meeting?" Woolsey demanded.

"Nothing much," Schebner said, almost dreamily. "Oh, but I taught him to whistle. Or I tried. He hasn't much of a musical sense, unfortunately."

"Enough," Woolsey said. "There's no point being facetious, you're - "

"But I'm not being facetious, Woolsey from Earth. This is what we discussed. This is our connection. You wanted to know, so I told you."

Weir was disconcerted by the change that had come over Schebner. This man's voice was quiet, his manner subdued; he was gazing at the ceiling with a contemplative light in his eyes. Not at all like the maniacal, cackling madman who'd been rolling around the cell floor. When she looked at him, dressed in spare Atlantis fatigues, she saw a soldier she could have passed every day in the city halls.

"Do you have anything useful to tell us, Schebner?" Woolsey said. "Any intel on the Wraith's plans and movements?"

Schebner frowned. "I might."

"Tell us what you know, then."

"What is in it for me?"

"You're not in a position to make demands," Woolsey said.

"Actually, I think I am," Scbebner said. "I have been in worse situations than behind bars. I'll simply wait it out, I think. For you want something from me, and I want nothing from you. So I will wait until the Wraith come and rescue me."

"How can you be so certain they'll come?" Weir said.

"Of course they will," Schebner said, sounding almost disinterested. "They will come because this is the only thing they seek. The City of the Ancients. They are patient, and they are never-ending."

"And that's why you serve them," Weir said.

"My reasons are mine alone," Schebner said.

Woolsey appeared to be deliberating very hard; he spent an inordinate time rubbing his chin. Weir watched him warily, wondering what he had planned. Or rather, what the IOA had planned.

At length, Woolsey stepped forward and said, "What if...we were to give you something that you want?"

Schebner said, "I want nothing."

"That's not true," Woolsey said. "You must want _something_."

"Perhaps I do," Schebner said, almost morosely. "But you Lanteans are duplicitous. You will no doubt attempt to double-cross me."

Woolsey opened his mouth, but Weir spoke before he could. "Mr. Woolsey, what are you going on about? We're certainly not about to give in to _his _demands..."

"If he has valuable intel," Woolsey hissed, "then yes, one small thing wouldn't hurt. Goodness knows we've been lacking adequate information about the Wraith - "

"And who's to say he even _has _that information?" Weir said.

"Oh, I have it," Schebner said. "I have everything you want, and then some. Some that you would not suspect." He sat upright in a single fluid motion, his eyes glinting. "Truly, I am lucky to have run into Moon-eyes here. With him here, there is so much I can do..."

The back of Weir's neck prickled. "You're not planning on returning him to his Hive, are you?"

Schebner smiled - not one of his deranged grins from earlier, but a weary smirk. "Who knows what I am planning? What is your name again?"

"Dr. Weir," Weir said. "I'm the leader of the Atlantis expedition."

"Ah," Schebner said. "Their Queen, now?"

Weir didn't know what to say to this so she said nothing. She folded her arms and gazed at Schebner, while watching Woolsey from the corner of her eye. Woolsey said, "What will it take for you to give us this information?"

Schebner seemed to think for a while, his icy eyes darting back and forth while his brow creased in concentration. When he spoke, his words were slow, measured, deliberate. As if he was parting from a reluctant secret.

"There is a world...its address I have memorized. I wish to be taken to this world. On this world, I will tell you all the information you desire."

"Unacceptable," Weir said instantly. "Mr. Woolsey's position is too important for us to compromise him like that. For all we know, you might be leading us straight into a Wraith stronghold."

"It is not a Wraith world," Schebner said. "It is uninhabited. All I want is equal ground, Dr. Weir. Here, you hold the power. On that world, there will be only you and me and Mr. Woolsey. We can talk. Like equals."

"You're not an equal," Woolsey said. "You're a _prisoner."_

"And as I've said, unless there's a full complement of marines with us, we won't go," Weir said.

"Marines? You mean, more guards like these ones?" Schebner's eyes flashed with distaste when they landed on the guards flanking the cell. "No. I will not accept that. Very well. If you don't wish to go personally, Mr. Woolsey and Dr. Weir, then send your most trusted lieutenants. At most four of them. And I would like Moon-eyes to come along too."

Weir and Woolsey exchanged glances. For a moment, they forgot that they were meant to have something of an antagonistic relationship, being IOA and Atlantean. Here, they were two authority figures in the same predicament - figuring out how to deal with his prisoner. Deciding whether to acquiesce to his request or not.

They stared into each other's eyes for several long, tense seconds - and then Woolsey lowered his head a fraction. A nod. Her heart hammering, Weir turned to face Schebner.

"Schebner. My people work in teams of four. I will send my most trusted team - the one lead by John Sheppard - with you and Keith. If you or Keith make any wrong moves, they will not _hesitate _to gun you down on the spot. Is that understood?"

She'd have to ensure that Ronon was fit for duty by the time they went on this mission. Though she trusted Sheppard and Teyla, she doubted that Sheppard would be willing to kill Keith and perhaps Teyla would hesitate. Only Ronon could be counted on to fire first, with no thought or emotion but instinct. It was a trait of his that had bothered her in the past and she was still not sure if she condoned it, but if a mission like this went south, then she needed that more than ever.

Privately, she wondered what insanity had overtaken her if she was agreeing to this. But it was too late - she'd already agreed, and she already had IOA (well, Richard Woolsey) approval.

Schebner smiled and it struck Weir that he was probably handsome. Perhaps something he used to his advantage. "I understand. When will we go?"

"When I give the call." When Ronon recovered.

"Very well, Dr. Weir, Mr. Woolsey," Schebner said. "Then we have nothing else to discuss."

Weir nodded sharply, and Woolsey followed suit. They then exited the cell without a word; only when they'd left the brig and were heading through the city's brightly lit halls did Woolsey finally break the pensive silence in which they'd been engaged.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Dr. Weir?"

"Well, you're the one who first agreed to it," Weir said. "It's too late to back down now."

"Right," Woolsey said, nodding. "Of course, too late."

The look on his face clearly said, though, that he wished it wasn't.

* * *

The next few chapters get the plot moving in a really _big _way, to the point of maybe even qualifying as Wham Episodes. However, I'm stuck on that particular arc so don't expect it to show up in a while.

In the meantime, you can review. Reviews are always nice, yah?


	15. The Windswept World

**To Freedom**

_Chapter Fifteen: The Windswept World_

I know it's been an unconscionably long time since I last updated, but turns out my plan to stay two chapters ahead of what I'd posted hasn't worked out. I'm still stuck as all hell on chapter sixteen, which is bad since it's a major turning point in the story.

Nonetheless, this story has gone without an update for too long, so I'm putting up chapter fifteen even though I haven't finished sixteen yet. Enjoy!

* * *

Two mornings later, Dr. Beckett finally pronounced Ronon fit to return to duty. Sheppard wasted no time gathering the rest of the team, and soon they were all standing in the gate room, geared to the nines and awaiting Schebner's arrival.

"This is a bad idea," Ronon grumbled, standing tall and straight with an unhappy glower on his face and his hand on his gun. Looking at him, it was impossible to tell that he'd been at death's door only four days ago.

"I concur," declared Rodney, who had been shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Jittery as ever. "This has got 'trap' written all over it, so why are we walking straight into it? Have you lost your mind, Sheppard?"

"Hey, I'm not the one who made the decision." An indignant Sheppard rounding on Rodney. "Elizabeth did, and I happen to trust her judgment, all right? And if anything goes wrong, we've got license to shoot old Schebner."

"Yeah, well, shooting Schebner won't be much use when we're captured by a Hive ship," Rodney shot back.

"Don't be so negative, Rodney," Sheppard said. "Something good's bound to happen."

"Yeah, like Schebner getting food poisoning so he can't accompany us, maybe! That'd be the best thing to happen in a while, now that I think about it."

"Dr. McKay, I am sure that everything will be all right," Teyla said. "We have no reason to doubt Schebner's word."

"Oh, really, 'cause I think we have every reason," Rodney said.

"McKay's right," Ronon said. "The guy's insane."

"Not _anymore!" _Sheppard said, frustrated. He couldn't remember how many times they'd already had this conversation. "Thanks to Keith - "

"Do we really have to bring him along?" Rodney said in a whisper that wasn't quite a whisper - just a few degrees below stage whisper. "I mean, come on, he's a _Wraith_..."

"He's Keith," snapped Sheppard as if that should settle the matter. And it _should. _"And it's not like he has any idea what Schebner is planning. Do you, Keith?"

Keith, standing at the edge of the group - so the marines could better keep their guns on him - jerked up, blinking. He'd been staring at the floor, his arms crossed, and seemed lost in thought. "What? What is it, John?"

Sheppard grinned and offered Keith a wink and a wave. "Nothing, go back to what you were doing."

Keith blinked a few more times, looking confused and a tad affronted, before following Sheppard's suggestion. Sheppard's grin widened and he nodded conspiratorially at Rodney. "That kid, he's just too fun..."

"Oh, good lord, Sheppard," Rodney said. "If that wasn't _supremely _creepy."

"Creepy? How?" Sheppard cocked an eyebrow. He didn't think he'd been doing anything creepy; what was wrong with needling Keith a little? Maybe it was a little mean-spirited, but damn was it fun. The kid's reactions were priceless - and anything that made him blink was by defintion a triumph.

"Nothing, it's just that, well, you're acting like, like bosom buddies or something. It's just...weird. I mean, I know Keith's not an ordinary Wraith but still, he's a Wraith!"

Sheppard sighed. Even though Rodney had gone farther along befriending Keith than, say, Ronon, that didn't mean Rodney entirely trusted the Wraith. It made sense, in an irritating way. To distract himself from this turn in the conversation, he said, "Dammit, what's taking them so long?"

He glanced up t the balcony level, where Weir leaned over the railing; he and she exchanged nods when their eyes met. Woolsey, who'd chosen to stay in Atlantis until Schebner's mission concluded, paced back and forth, not bothering to hide his impatience.

Sheppard said through his jack, "Samuels, why aren't you here yet?"

"_We got a little sidetracked, sir," _Samuels said, sounding disgruntled, and Sheppard knew there was a little more to the story. "_Don't worry, we'll be here momentarily."_

Mere minutes later, a contigent of marines marched into the gate room. Schebner was somewhere in the center of the mass of dark uniforms. For some reason, he had on a huge smile.

"I'm ready, Weir of Atlantis, Woolsey of Earth," he said as the group stopped under the balcony.

"Right." Weir nodded; Woolsey stopped pacing but didn't face Schebner. "Chuck, dial the gate. Schebner, you may join the team."

As Chuck began dialing, Schebner stepped apart from the marines and strode towards the team, his gait loping and strides long. The marines kept pointing their guns at him, though some switched to Keith. When Schebner approached Keith, Ronon whipped out his gun as well and aimed it at the Wraith worshiper.

"Hey, hey, that's enough," Sheppard said, putting his hand on Ronon's arm. He didn't like the atmopshere in the gate room - this simmering tension might spook Schebner. Right now, they needed his cooperation.

"Forgive me for being late," Schebner said, addressing Keith. "I wished for the guards to show me around this city."

"Really?" Sheppard said, suspicious in an instant. "What, so you could spy?"

The look Schebner gave Sheppard was almost exasperated. "They merely deigned to show me the cafeteria."

"Sorry about that, Colonel," Samuels called. "He was insistent."

Sheppard shrugged and turned back to Schebner. Much to his annoyance, the Wraith worshiper was somewhat taller than him, so he had to look up if he wanted to make eye contact. "Now listen up here, buddy. If we even begin to suspect that you're double-crossing us, believe me, we're not gonna wait to shoot. Well, maybe me and Teyla will, but _he _sure as hell won't." He jerked his thumb at Ronon, who fixed Schebner with a piercing glare.

"Of course," Schebner said. "But I will not double-cross you. You can trust me, can't you? You trust this Wraith here, do you not? He can vouch for me."

"Actually, I'm not sure I can," Keith said. "I don't recognize this address. For all I know, you might be leading me straight back to my Hive."

Schebner's response was a mysterious little smirk, hardly encouraging.

Nonetheless, the Stargate had already activated and the event horizon stabilized, so they had no choice but to step through. To put themselves at Schebner's mercy. Sheppard clenched his teeth, not liking the sound of that at all, and when he followed Scheber to the gate, he kept his hand firmly on his gun.

"Good luck!" called Weir just before he entered the rippling wormhole. "And come back alive."

Sheppard paused to throw her an acknowledging wave. "Will do, Elizabeth."

* * *

Two hours later, the team tramped after Schebner across a dry, salt-encrusted plain. The only plants were clumps of colorless grass peeking from the cracks webbing the ground. A brownish smudge was just barely visible over the horizon - mountains, possibly, but Sheppard didn't think Schebner was leading them there.

This barren expanse was desolate enough, but Sheppard wouldn't have minded it so much if it weren't for the wind. That wind! Since he and the team had stepped through the Stargate, a constant wind had assailed them. It howled past their ears and tore at their clothes and exposed skin, like a barrage of icy knives. Thankfully - small condolences - the plain wasn't very dusty, meaning that at least little grains weren't stinging them along with the wind. Nonetheless, Sheppard's visibly wasn't much better than it would be in a sandstorm because his eyes watered and stung if he opened them too wide. He had to squint if he wanted to see at all.

Not that there was much to see. Just the plain, his team members struggling against the wind alongside him, and Schebner walking ahead of them all. Damn that Schebner. How could he just _ignore _the wind like that? His clothes snapped around his body, and sometimes in its most powerful fits the wind pushed him a few steps backwards, but he always recovered without complaint and strode on ahead, straight-backed and proud and arms swinging carelessly by his side. It made him seem even more inhuman than Keith. At least Keith, too, was struggling; perhaps even more than the rest combined, since the wind absolutely loved tugging around his oversized coat and long hair.

"Just - why - did I - _agree_ - to this - " Rodney's voice was a high-pitched whine almost matching the frequency of the wind. "He - wants - to kill us - "

Sheppard had to agree that sounded like a pretty good plan. Schebner might well abandon them on this empty world and leave them to die of exposure. He was already far ahead of them...and they'd been walking for hours. Sheppard's legs felt like logs.

"Damn him," growled Ronon. "Want me to shoot him now?"

"After - you get me - some food," groaned Rodney.

"Dammit Rodney, you're always hungry!" Sheppard yelled, rounding on Rodney, but spinning around was a mistake: the wind seized upon his sudden lack of balance and almost knocked him off his feet. Just before he hit the ground, someone grabbed his arm and gave him a little push to steady him.

"Hey, thanks." When he turned he found himself staring into wide, luminous eyes - almost obscured by a mess of wind-swept white hair.

"John, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Sheppard said. He struggled against the sudden, bizarre urge to brush the hair out of Keith's eyes. That _couldn't _be comfortable; even Teyla had tied her hair back. "Hey, how far do you think we can trust him?"

Keith glanced after Schebner's retreating back and said, "Not very far, I think."

"Great, so we shouldn't have agreed to this after all?"

"What I do not understand," Teyla said, joining the conversation, "is why he would go to such lengths to kill us. Surely it would have been easier to lead us directly to a Wraith world."

"Maybe he's trying to starve us to death," Rodney grumbled, rubbing his stomach. "I swear, if I don't have anything to eat soon, I'm gonna - "

"_Here, _Rodney." Irritated, Sheppard reached into one of his vest's inner pockets and retrieved two half-squashed Power Bars. "Peanut butter or chocolate chip?"

"Ah, no, don't make me guess - "

"It's not a guess, it's a choice," Sheppard said. "Peanut butter or chocolate chip, Rodney."

"Can I have both?" Rodney said hopefully.

"No, you can't. The other one's for me," Sheppard snapped.

"If you don't hurry, he's gonna leave you behind," Ronon called over his shoulder; he and Teyla had already resumed tromping after Schebner.

"You know, now that I think about it, I'd rather stay here," Rodney declared, folding his arms - he looked so much like a petulant child that Sheppard tried not to laugh. "Much better sitting around eating Power Bars than following a madman to certain death."

"Dr. McKay, I doubt he's leading us to our deaths," Keith said. "If he wanted to kill us, he would have done it already. This sort of method is too elaborate and unreliable, especially for him."

"Oh, that's a comfort." Rodney threw his hands in the air.

"Well, sure it is. It means he's not planning on killing us," Sheppard said.

"Doesn't mean he might be planning something _worse!" _cried determined-to-think-the-worst Rodney. "Like, like lead us to some...underground prison, or something!"

"What would be the purpose of that?" Keith said, his tone not exasperated as Sheppard's would have been, but gentle. "Come, Dr. McKay. You aren't thinking."

"Damn right I'm not thinking! It's impossible to think when my death is approaching with every step I take in this awful place!" Rodney didn't shout so much as wail. He wrung his hands so viciously Sheppard expected them to fall clean off his wrists.

"Relax, Rodney," Sheppard said, thudding Rodney on the shoulder. "Anyway, don't you think better during life-and-death situations?"

"This isn't life-and-death! This is, this is, death and death!" Rodney sputtered.

"Well, look on the bright side. At least we're not being shot at."

"That's _such _a comfort, really." Rodney sounded only seconds from sobbing. Sheppard stared at him, feeling more and more helpless. Sure, Rodney panicked easily, but never so much and so soon - and they weren't even in immediate danger yet.

"What gives, Rodney? I mean, I'd say that this is less life-threatening a situation than being stuck on a ship that's under attack."

"Well, yeah, maybe - less immediately life-threatening. But I, I really, I mean, don't you think that dying of exposure has to be the worst way to go?" Rodney's voice was a squeak. "I mean, you're just sitting there starving and thirsty and waiting for your organs to fail. At least getting blown up is instantaneous."

"Look, if you can't handle it, you don't have to continue," Sheppard said. "We'll just get Schebner to turn around and take us back to the Stargate."

"But you won't be able to get your intel," Keith said.

"At this point," Sheppard said, "I'm really doubting that he's gonna give us that intel. If he ever had it."

"He should. He's in the close confidence of many high-ranking Wraith," Keith said.

"Well, if he has it, he's obviously not gonna tell us any time soon," Sheppard grumbled. "Keith, can you go to him and tell him that either he tells us now or we're turning back?"

Keith nodded and turned around. "Oh, good man, good man," Rodney groaned. "Yeah, you tell him - "

Before Keith left, Sheppard said impulsively, "Hey, um, you need anything? Like a hair tie? you know..."

"Excuse me?" Keith blinked in angelic confusion.

"Never mind. Go talk to Schebner. And be forceful, all right? Don't equivocate a single inch - it's all or nothing." He gave Keith a gentle push to encourage him, and the Wraith stumbled forward in surprise. He quickly regained his footing and half-stumbled, half-ran up to Schebner, faster than should be possible in this wind. Then again, he _was _a Wraith...though what did that make I-laugh-in-the-face-of-wind Schebner? Soon, Keith caught up to the human and had tapped him on the shoulder. Thankfully, the wind was blowing their direction, so Sheppard could hear everything the two said. He had half a mind to order Ronon to stop pointing his gun at Keith, but most of him was too busy trying to pick up what Keith and Schebner were saying.

"We _must _stop. It's imperative. You've carried us on this chase for much too long. We're already far enough from the Stargate, it shouldn't matter if you give us the intel now or an hour later."

"It _does _matter. I need to show you something. The intel is not something I can put in words - "

"You're lying. There is nothing here."

"That's right, there is nothing _here, _but there will be something if we keep on moving! Hurry, we haven't got time to waste."

"We're exhausted and frustrated and we have no idea where you're leading us! We _will _stop, and you _will _tell us where we're going. I command you to!"

"Oh, please." A throaty chuckle from Schebner. "You're quite bad at this, little boy. Why don't you shut up and do as I tell you? Unlike you, I actually know what I'm doing."

"Is that so? _Is that so?" _Keith snarled and lunged at Schebner. Ronon's gun charged and he aimed it, but Schebner was quicker. He skipped several steps back; a startled Keith lost his balance and hit the ground, his hair spilling around his face. Sheppard dashed forward and knelt by his side.

"Hey, Keith, you okay?" When Keith nodded, he glared at Schebner, who smirked back. "Knock it off, all right? _Knock it off. _I don't know what you're playing it but it's got to stop."

Teyla had aimed her gun at Schebner. Sheppard didn't find it hard to draw his pistol (after he'd helped Keith to his feet) and a quivering Rodney followed suit. Even Ronon, with the greatest reluctance, removed his gun from Keith's head and pointed it at Schebner's. Schebner smiled at the guns, hardly perturbed.

"You don't understand now because you don't understand the nature of what it is I am about to show you. Once you understand, your suspicions will vanish. All of them."

"And how long will that take, huh?" Rodney demanded, his voice quivering as much as his arm. "Another hour? Two? _Three?"_

"If we keep a good pace, maybe another hour, probably less," Schebner said, his eyes glinting. He'd raised his hands in surrender but his expression was malevolent. "But if you shoot me, you will never find out. Believe me, that would be a mistake you would regret for a lifetime."

"Really?" Sheppard's face quirked into a smirk. "'Cause from where I'm standing, it doesn't seem like much of a mistake."

"All you've done since the beginning is lead us on," Ronon growled.

"The intel, Schebner," Teyla said. "That is all we want."

"And I cannot give it to you unless I take you to that place!" Schebner cried. "Listen, will you _please _trust me for now? Believe it or not, we are on the same side here!"

"Like hell," Sheppard said. "You're a Wraith worshiper."

Schebner sucked in a deep, rattling breath; he seemed to be struggling to get ahold of himself. "Not all is as it seems, Colonel Sheppard."

"Yeah, spare me the koans," Sheppard said. "Just tell us what you came here to tell us - "

"For the third time, I cannot!" Schebner's screech almost put all of Rodney's to shame. "One more hour. That's all I am asking. One more hour at most. If I have not lead you to the intel by then, then feel free to shoot me." His eyes landed on the barrel of Ronon's gun - perhaps he figured that an end by red blast would be preferable to an end by firing squad.

"Oh, who cares, by the end of that hour I'll be dead from starvation," Rodney grumbled, shaking his head.

Keith threw Rodney a piercing glance and the familiar worry twisted Sheppard's gut. The worry that he'd tried to shove aside since he had first returned to Atlantis - but he couldn't suppress it for long, because it was an inextricable part of who Keith was. No matter how much either of them tried denying it.

Now wasn't the time to think about that. Sheppard lowered his gun a fraction and stepped forward. "All right, fine. You'll get your hour. But before that, we're gonna take a little break."

Schebner's eyes flashed. "This cannot wait - "

"_I _say it can, so it's gonna wait," Sheppard said firmly. "You feel up to challenging that?"

Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney cocked their weapons. Schebner turned slowly on the spot, taking them all in, and an uneasy smile creased his face.

"Very...very well then, Colonel Sheppard. Have your break."

"Good," Sheppard said, and he lowered his weapon. He raised an eyebrow at his team members; they obeyed, Rodney immediately and Teyla soon after. Ronon took his sweet time lowering his gun. When they all did, they stepped back and Schebner was left standing alone, still smiling, though his eyes burned. If he could have, he probably would have attacked them, Sheppard thought dimly.

The danger that Schebner posed was apparently the last thing on Rodney's mind, because the instant he got a few feet away from the Wraith worshiper he plopped onto the ground and stretched out his legs. "Oh, finally, finally, where's those Power Bars, Sheppard, I'll take the peanut butter - "

"Here you go, Rodney," sighed Sheppard, and lobbed the appropriate bar at the scientist. Well, at least some people were easy to satisfy.

* * *

An hour and a half later, they were running.

Not by choice. After a half hour of rest that felt more like a few seconds, the team had resumed tromping after Schebner. Just like they had for the first two hours, playing an insane game of follow-the-leader across this blasted wasteland.

But about ten minutes ago, Schebner had broken into a wild run. He sprinted like an Olympic athlete across the barren ground, soaring like he didn't even feel the wind. A marked contrast from the Atlantis team, for whom every step forward was another battle with the freezing, howling wind.

Rodney McKay could barely see Schebner - the man was a dark blot somewhere in the distance. A distance that grew with each passing second. Ronon was the closest to Schebner; even then, almost ten meters separated them. Rodney, for his part, lagged at the end of the group, less running than lightly jogging.

He felt sick and heavy, his stomach weighted down by half-digested Power Bar mush. He was starting to regret eating so many of the damned things - but hell, he'd been _hungry. _After all, he hadn't had breakfast that day, a stupid spur-of-the-moment decision that might have just sealed his fate. He'd devoured the peanut butter bar in two bites and wheedled the chocolate chip one off Sheppard; then Teyla, feeling sorry for him when he continued to complain of hunger, gave him one of her Power Bars. Ronon had gotten full after eating three quarters of a Power Bar, so he gave the remainder to Rodney.

The three and a quarter Power Bars sloshed back and forth, back and forth in his stomach. He felt like he'd swallowed three and a quarter stones.

And worse, Schebner showed no signs of stopping. Whereas normal people grew tired after ten straight minutes of sprinting, Schebner seemed to gain more energy the longer he ran. Rodney couldn't even see him anymore, though he figured that as long as he followed the others he was in no danger of losing Schebner. For how much longer, he didn't know. He could no longer feel his legs; with every breath a burning knife stabbed his lungs. His head throbbed like a second heart.

Then he could go on no longer. With a wail, Rodney fell face forward onto the packed earth. It felt like hitting concrete. Pain burst in his palms and forehead, which had taken the brunt of the fall. He gibbered but his voice was lost in the wind and for a wild moment he feared that the others - the jerks! - had left him to die alone...

But footsteps soon surrounded him and Teyla and Keith crouched in front of him and Sheppard rapidly sprinted in his direction. Rodney groaned.

"Rodney, are you all right?" Teyla demanded.

"I'm...okay..." Rodney sputtered. Oh, great. With every word, he felt like he was going to vomit. He clamped his mouth tightly shut and sucked in his cheeks, trying to suppress the nausea clawing out of his throat.

"Rodney!" Teyla touched his shoulder.

"He's exhausted," Keith said. "Won't be able to get up again."

"_He _is right here," Rodney managed. His head lurched.

"What's the matter? Why'd you stop? Rodney?" As Sheppard approached, Rodney groaned even more piteously.

"Can't...run any longer...tell the lunk to stop..."

"Too bad," Ronon said, walking over.

"Hey, you're supposed to be chasing him!" Sheppard said.

"Can't," Ronon said, shrugging as his eyebrows danced. "He just disappeared."

"What, you lost him?" Sheppard sounded scandalized, perhaps at the idea that a scrawny Wraith worshipper had outrun their big guy.

"No. I almost caught him," Ronon said in a tone of utmost puzzlement. "But then he just vanished."

"Are you kidding, that's impossible," snapped Rodney, hauling himself up on his elbows despite his desperate urge to puke. "You probably just lost him but you don't wanna admit it."

"No, I mean it," Ronon said. "He was right in front of me one moment, and the next he was just gone."

"All right, something really weird is going on here," Sheppard said in his 'that's enough Rodney let's not argue' tone. "Do you think he planned this?"

"Whatever 'this' is," said Keith.

"Perhaps he was...beamed away?" suggested Teyla in a tone that implied she didn't believe it herself.

"Of course not, course not," Rodney said, flailing his hands. He'd managed to pull himself to his knees, even though his leg muscles felt like jelly. "Where would the Wraith get beaming tech?"

"_If _it was the Wraith who beamed him away," said Sheppard.

"What? Who else would?" Rodney said.

"Look, he didn't get beamed away, all right? I told you, he just disappeared," Ronon said insistently.

"Hey, Keith, is this another something your people were working on? Um...maybe camouflage suits?" Sheppard said.

Keith shook his head. Sheppard sighed. "Well, back to square one..."

"Ronon," Teyla said, "why don't you lead us to where Schebner disappeared? Maybe we can better determine what happened to him if we see the place ourselves."

Rodney couldn't argue with that logic - nor could any of the others. Sheppard nodded and one by one they began running again. Rodney, though, had to cling to Teyla's arm for support because his legs wouldn't move on their own anymore. With every breath, he swallowed back something that tasted like Power Bars mixed with stomach acid. Pleasant.

Soon they reached a spot of barren earth that appeared the same as every other patch of barren earth on this accursed planet. Ronon nudged a crack with his boot and said, "This is it."

"And _how _exactly can you tell?" Rodney demanded. "I mean, everything all looks the same here, you might be meters off for all we know."

"I know, McKay," Ronon said. "That patch of grass." He pointed to a clump of grass peeking out of the crack.

"Oh, great. We're supposed to expect that you remembered something like _that _- "

"Rodney, shut up," Sheppard said. He walked gingerly forward, training his gun at the ground as if he expected Schebner to burst out and attack them. Nothing happened. "Looks pretty ordinary," he said, pivoting on his heel to face Ronon. As he did so, his foot shifted a few centimeters to the left - and with a startled shout he vanished into the ground.

"John!" shouted Keith and Teyla at the same time, while Rodney screamed something untillegible.

It was as if something had just _sucked _him underground, and in less than a second, too! Cold sweat broke out upon the back of Rodney's neck. Was there a colony of deadly creatures underground that wouldn't hesitate to eat them? He was contemplating turning around and running all three hours back to the Stargate when a determined Keith stepped onto the very spot that Sheppard had touched - and went under as well.

Rodney supposed that the scream he unleashed could be interpreted as "Ahhh homygawd!"

"Well, what are we waiting around for?" Ronon said, stepping forward.

"Wait waitwait_wait!" _screamed Rodney, grabbing for him, though Ronon stepped aside to avoid his flailing hands. "Wait, are we sure this is safe? I mean, at the very least we should try to figure out what it is - "

"Whatever this is," Teyla said, "I believe that this is what Schebner wished to show us."

"And yeah, maybe he'll use it to kill us!" cried Rodney. "Hell, it might even be his underground prison, ever thought of that? Yeah, you all laughed when I suggested it, but turns out I might be right, whadda ya say to that!"

"Well, we won't find out sitting on our asses," Ronon said.

"No! No no nononono!" More flailing. "First we've got to figure out just what the hell this thing _is, _then you can go stepping on it - "

"And by then, it might be too late for Sheppard," Ronon growled. "I don't know about you, but I'm gonna take my chances."

"Ronon," Teyla said. "Dr. McKay has a point. This is technology any we've ever seen before. It is best to be cautious until we determine exactly what it is - "

"Whatever," Ronon said with a shrug. He stepped forward.

"_No, you CAN'T!" _shrieked Rodney after Ronon disappeared. He dove towards the place where Ronon had been just a second ago, but his hands clawed empty air. A flash of shock later, he realized he'd almost stepped onto the patch of ground himself and hopped back, gibbering.

"Oh, _crap," _he groaned to the bone-white sky. "Now what?"

"I believe we have no choice but to follow," Teyla said.

"Oh, sure, okay," Rodney said, who also saw no other choice. But that didn't mean he had to like it! "Um, ladies first."

Teyla threw him a look that was almost exasperated, hefted her gun, and stepped onto the patch. She vanished in an instant, and only Rodney remained on the surface of the desolate, windswept world.

Would it be worse underground? Rodney didn't know, but one thing was certain - his friends were there. Sucking in a deep breath, Rodney stepped forward, screwed his eyes shut, and walked onto the patch.

Except not really. No surface bumped beneath them when he placed his feet on the patch: it was if he'd stepped off the edge of a building. A heartbeat later, gravity took charge and Rodney fell. Fell and screamed like a madman being murdered. He flailed and thrashed but stopped when his hands bumped against something hard. More earth?

It struck Rodney that he wasn't free-falling into oblivion, as he'd previously thought. Rather he was tumbling down a tunnel - small comfort. After all, he was still falling! Worse, the tunnel twisted and turned on occasion, just like a water slide. Without the water, and with three and a quarter Power Bars in his stomach. Soon he stopped screaming and descended into piteous whimpering, especially when whip-like protusions - roots? - batted his face.

And then he was truly flying forward into nothing, no walls around him, just dark and damp-smelling air -

He crashed hard on a surface that felt like gravelly soil. Little rocks pelted his face and opened up cuts and bruises. He groaned like a dying whale.

"Rodney, there you are!" It was Sheppard, shuffling over to his side. Rodney lay in the dirt, unable to make any noise but a groan. His stomach felt like it was trying to squeeze out of his throat.

"Where the hell are we?" growled Ronon. "And where's that snake Schebner?"

"He led us into a trap," Teyla said tightly.

Rodney managed to open his eyes. For a second, all he saw was darkness, but as his vision adjusted, he began picking up details. They had landed in a small room that looked just like a chamber in a cave: the only signs that it might be inhabited were the open circle on the wall behind them - the tunnel exit - and a metal-barred door recessed in the opposite wall.

Ha! His underground prison idea had been right all along!

Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla had drawn their weapons; Rodney scrambled to retrieve his own pistol. They aimed their weapons at the door, since it was the only place from which enemies could enter.

With a great grinding sound, the door slid open - and in flowed five stun-gun-wielding Wraith drones.

The Atlantis team reacted without thought, raising their weapons just as the drones raised theirs -

But a Wraith commander, easily the tallest that Rodney had ever seen, stepped forward from the group of drones and motioned for them to back down.

"Lower your weapons," he said. "We mean you no harm."

* * *

Sorry guys, you're gonna have to sit with that cliffhanger for a while, since I'm not feeling all that inspired on chapter sixteen yet.

In the meantime, please do review.


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